What You Leave Behind
by ArtisticRainey
Summary: *Sequel to 'Blood Red Moon'* The turtles are back home with some new friends in tow. A mysterious cloaked figure begins to roam the New York City streets, and a deadly military secret is about to become undone. Will the turtles be able to keep it together and rescue one of their own? WIP.
1. Chapter 1

"Oh God, it's happening!"

Donatello's heart leapt into his mouth and he dropped his wrench. It clattered on the workbench as he stumbled out into the living area, half-finished projects and notes scattering in his wake.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes roving around the room for the reason for the anguished cry. He saw nothing of concern, and his chest tightened further. "What's happened? Is Mona okay? Are the eggs?"

"CRUD!"

Raphael punctuated his second yell by throwing the game console controller he had been holding to the floor. It clunked and the plastic split in two, revealing its technical insides. As Don's brain was hurrying to make sense of the situation, Mike jumped up from the couch and punched the air, his face a picture of triumph.

"Oh yeah! Oh yeah! I am the champion once again!"

He preformed his patented videogame victory dance around the couch. Raphael crossed his arms tightly and pretended he couldn't see. Donatello's mouth fell into a tight, perfectly straight line and his eyes narrowed. Raphael turned away as Mike got right in his face to brag. Raph's disgusted expression fell into confusion as he caught sight of Don's 'we are not amused' look.

"What, bro?" he asked. "You look like someone just told you they squashed your cat."

Mike stopped trying to get Raph's attention and turned to Don.

"Yeah, dude. What's up?"

Don raised his arms as if imploring some higher power before letting them drop to his sides.

"You people have _got _to stop yelling like that!" he hissed.

He turned on his heel and marched away, completely ignoring how childish he knew he was being. He growled as he heard Mike ask, "What crawled up his shell and died?"

With every stomping footfall he cooled off and regretted his harshness. By the time he had exited the lair and put plenty of distance between himself and his brothers, he was on the verge of turning around and apologising.

They simply didn't understand the pressure he was under. Why would they? Leo and Mei's eggs were due to hatch in the next few weeks, as far as Don could tell. All the research in the world couldn't predict how their mutated genes would affect the gestation period. And what when the children were born? They could be deformed, live only a short time, or be born just plain dead. It wasn't the jovial Mike or the hot-headed Raph that Leo and Mei looked to for guidance and reassurance. It was Don, who was set up on a pedestal and supposed to know everything, when in truth he knew nothing. He hung his head. He felt like a complete fraud.

On top of that was Mona and her developing pregnancy. She was around six months gone by now, and both she and Raph were depending on him for all their knowledge. In reality, what did Don know about pregnancy? Nothing. Indeed, what did he know about a fluke mutant pregnancy? Less than nothing. Yet they still looked to him for guidance. Don felt like a sinking island in a sea of troubles. Could he cope with it? Did he really have a choice? He had come across a quote while trawling the internet one day for inspiration: 'The strongest man in the world is he who stands alone.' He couldn't remember who said it; some playwright. But it spoke to him, or at least he pretended it did.

Though, he supposed, he wasn't really alone. The family always banded together. It just felt like they depended on him for a lot of things he couldn't really be depended on for. Don stopped in his errant ramblings, both physical and mental, and leaned his shell against damp sewer wall. He had to break out of this funk.

He stood up again as a sharp clicking grabbed his attention. Curious, he crouched down and slunk along the curve of the sewer tunnel, cursing the fact he had neglected to take his bo. The click-click continued, and was joined by a soft muttering. Don rounded the corner. What he saw made him shake his head.

"I thought you were quitting," he said.

A pair of yellow eyes flicked up at him, narrowed in annoyance. The crouched figure stood up to her full height, towering over even Don in her ridiculously high heels.

"I am," Desdemona said flatly.

"It doesn't look like it," Don said, one eye-ridge raised.

Des held a battered, half-smoked cigarette in one hand and an old lighter in the other. She sighed and crumpled the cigarette in her palm.

"It's hard," she said.

Don nodded and tucked his thumbs into his belt. Des tossed the lighter into the rushing sewer water and put her hands on her hips.

"So you know why I'm here. Why are you here?" she asked.

Don went to talk, but his mouth went dry. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his own reaction. Since they had returned to their own dimension weeks before with their new friends in tow, Desdemona had shed her over-muscular image. She was shapely and toned, if still a bit on the muscular side. She still wore her high leather boots, but the garter had been abandoned, replaced by strips of dark grey material tied around the top of fishnet holdups. Matching material was tied around her biceps.

There had been several sets of raised eye-ridges and brows at Desdemona's overtly sexual outfit and the gun slung on her hips. Don had resisted the urge to laugh at the adjustment of Mona and Mei as another female – such a sexualised female - invaded their space. If the ladies had hackles, they would most certainly have been up. What made it worse was that Des practically ignored them. Now that Des and her brothers were set up in their own sewer home, however, the ladies rarely interacted.

Don shook himself from his musings and swallowed.

"I had to get out of the lair," he said. "Mona's pregnancy is causing a lot of fighting between herself and Raph. And between that and Mei's eggs being due to hatch any time now, the tension's racking up in there."

Des nodded and said nothing, crossing her arms across her plastron. Don sighed and shook his head. He wanted to tell her all about it. He wanted to share his worries and to spill out all the crushing pressure that was pressing down on his brain. He couldn't quite manage it, however. Her face was passive and her yellow eyes flat. Sometimes he wondered what she actually thought of him; it was hard to tell.

At that moment Desdemona uncrossed her arms and slid them around Don's waist to meet behind his shell. The warmth of her skin against his seemed to sap the stress right out of his pores, and his hesitation to return the hug disappeared as he melted into the hug. The hugged in silence for a short while before Des began to cough harshly and turned away, putting her hands on her knees, bent double. Don frowned.

"That's why you need to quit smoking," he said.

Des thumped her fist on her plastron and nodded, her face flushed.

"I know. Either that or smoke so much I don't have the chance to cough, like before."

"You'll get there," Don said. "I'm sure we can get you some nicotine patches."

"No, no patches," Des said. "I'll kick it on my own."

Des regained her composure and sucked in a deep breath. She pinned him with a steady gaze.

"Would you like to escape later this evening and have dinner with me?" she asked. "Cass and Othello are going to be at yours for some movie marathon thing with Michelangelo."

"Yeah," Don said, grinning. "Mike's showing all four of the Night of the Red Dead Destruction movies. I was supposed to be going as well…but I guess I could make an exception."

"Indeed you will," Des said, tipping her chin up and narrowing her eyes.

Don chuckled and nodded.

"Mike might call this 'being whipped'," he said.

"That, my dear," Des said, walking past him and trailing a long-nailed finger over the lip of his shell, "can easily be arranged."

Don lost his words again.

In the slowly dimming evening the New York City streets were humming with the comings and goings of every type of person. People hurried home from their jobs. High-powered businessmen in their long woollen coats stepped into their shiny cars with blacked out windows, and the roads were choked with yellow cabs and weaving motorcyclists. The air was warm; many of the businessmen regretted their choice of coat.

In any other city, the deeply hooded figure walking close to the buildings may have cut a strange figure. Her long black cloak swept the dry ground, and her face was completely obscured by shadow. It was a blessing that she had found herself in such a place; she thanked God for it in her prayers every day. A small, straight-backed nun shielding herself from the outside world barely registered on the radar of the average New Yorker. She smiled and folded her arms inside her deep sleeves. If only they knew the truth, the secret she kept closely hidden beneath the black of her nun's habit. She kept walking, her bare feet obscured from view, but as the sun dipped down further and the street lights came on she willed herself to head back to the convent.

Her heels almost dragged as she forced herself back in the direction of East 68th Street. She walked carefully through Central Park, past a bright cherry blossom tree. She paused as she reached the Carousel House and sighed wistfully. She had been cloistered in the convent for all of her life, and at eighteen she desperately wanted to explore every nook and cranny of NYC, to taste all the vendor food, to ride the carousel and to stare into the windows of the myriad of stores. She was bound, however, by her promise to Sister Mary Urban, and as the sun went down, she had to return home. It had taken years to convince the abbess to let her out; it would not do to ruin all that hard work by being late. She escaped from the park and crossed Madison Avenue, her dark-clothed body silhouetted against the orange glow of the setting sun reflecting off the tall buildings, and disappeared into the crowd.


	2. Chapter 2

"Raphael!"

Don watched as Raph rolled his eyes and threw down the motorcycle magazine he had been reading.

"What is it now, woman?" Raph called as he stood.

Don winced and inched his fingers towards the discarded magazine. Perhaps he could use it to hide under... The tactless Raphael would never learn.

"How dare you speak like that to me?" Mona Lisa bellowed from the upper levels. "I am carrying your child, Raphael Hamato!"

It had been like this for what seemed like an age. Mona was now heavily pregnant and suffering for it. She was still wracked with sickness, and was frequently confined to bed with bouts of what Don could only assume was something like sciatica. With every problem she looked to him with trusting eyes, but in truth he was just guessing most of the time. His worst nightmare was that when Mona went to give birth, there would be some kind of disaster he could do nothing to help with. If she haemorrhaged, there would be nothing Don could do to stop her bleeding out. If the baby was born with the umbilical cord around its neck, or if it was a breach birth, Don simply didn't have the skill to deal with it. That was of course banking on the foetus not going septic inside Mona and killing them both.

As usual, however, Don kept his pessimistic thoughts to himself. It would do mother or baby – or father – no good to know of those dismal consequences. Raph stomped off to his and Mona's living quarters and Don carefully folded the magazine closed. He really was worrying too much. It was probably time for a mental cleanse with Master Splinter. Though as a soon as Don thought about his aged sensei, another worry popped up. The old rat was just that – old. His mutated body was not holding up the age in the same way that the Ancient One's did; every day brought more grey hairs, a deeper stoop, and a slower walk. By no means was Splinter on his death bed, but every day was another step towards the smoky depths of time's inevitable conclusion.

"Now where did _that _come from?" Don said. His voice echoed in the empty living area. "There is something seriously wrong with me."

"We knew that already, dude."

Don threw the magazine over his shoulder. The sharp 'ow!' told him that he had hit his mark. Michelangelo smacked Don over the back of the head with the mag before dropping down onto the couch beside his brother.

"What up, bro-han?" he asked. "You still pissed at us?"

"No," Don said, "I overreacted earlier. I'm just a bit on edge."

Mike grinned and laced his fingers behind his head.

"Dude, you were sharper than a zoot suit."

Don raised an eyeridge.

"Mike, do you even know what a zoot suit is?"

"Nah," Mike said, grinning wider. "It just sounds cool!" He shifted in his seat and stared at Don head-on. "So, how was your 'thing-that-was-far-more-important-than-watching-movies-with-your-favourite-brother' last night? Where didja go? Didja see Des?"

"What I did was none of your business, Mike," Don said, picking the magazine up again and thumbing through the pages, looking as nonchalant as possible.

"Aww, don't be like that," Mike said, giving Don his best wounded look. "I'm not razzing you. I'm happy for you!"

A retort about keeping one's beak out of other people's business was about to leave Don's lips, but he kept quiet when he saw a strange look pass over Mike's face. It was gone in a moment, but Don cocked his head to the side.

"Are you alright, Mike?" he asked.

Mike shook himself and leapt out of the chair, over the coffee table and onto the back of another couch.

"Of course I am," Mike said, back-flipping onto the floor. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Don waved a hand.

"Never mind," he said, but made a note to keep an eye on his brother for any more strange shadows passing over his face. "Well, to answer your question, yes I did see Desdemona last night. We had dinner together."

"And was that _all _you had together?" Mike asked, his face scrunched into a cheeky grin.

"Mike! Get your mind out of the gutter."

Don felt his face grow hot and dark, and he tossed the abused magazine aside once again. He felt his temper flare as flashes of his recent dreams come back to haunt him. He hasn't told anyone about them. _No one needs to know._

"Just because she was a prostitute doesn't mean she's like that now!" Don bellowed, launching himself to his feet.

Mike blinked and stepped backwards, holding his hands up, his eyes round and confused.

"Whoa, Donnie, chill out," he said. "That is totally _not_what I meant. It was a joke."

Don flopped back down onto the couch and put his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Mike," he said. "I'm really not feeling like myself today."

"You haven't been acting like yourself for a while," Mike said. "You're way too stressed, bud."

Don pinched the tip of his beak and shook his head.

"I know, I know. I'm letting this get way out of control. It's not like me to get so…worked up. Stressed, yes, but not to this extent."

Mike nodded and crossed his arms.

"Maybe you should see Master Splinter," he said, "to try and help you clear your head. I know you can cope with more than the rest of us, but you've got to get some of it off your chest sometime."

Don rested his head on his hands, but closed his eyes against the horribly serious expression that had come over his jovial brother's face. Why couldn't they go back to the way things were when they were teenagers?

"I was thinking of seeing Sensei myself," Don said. "I can't go on like this or I'll explode."

"And I don't want to clean up that mess," Mike said, his humour returning. "Can you imagine how much brain would be splattered over the walls? Yuck!"

Don let out a sudden guffaw, and for a moment his chest felt lighter.

"Oh Mike," he said. "What would I do without you?"

There was nothing unusual about the warehouse perched on the Harlem River. Perched on the Manhattan side, it was busy and bustling every day, with trucks rolling out to travel all across the state and beyond. It would have been gauche to use an abandoned warehouse as a cover. That was what criminals did; and Colonel H. Francis Cooper was no criminal. He was indeed the opposite. He was a war hero. He had achieved so much in his glorious career, until that one mistake. Cooper banged his fist on the solid oak arm of his chair. His aide jumped, nearly spilling the scalding cup of coffee he had just prepared. He rushed it over to Cooper, shaking his free hand against the searing pain of the burn. Cooper gulped the steaming beverage without hesitation.

The aide rushed out of the plush office as usual, and Cooper stared at the closed door from behind his elaborate desk. Soon his research team would cower in front of him, likely presenting another week of failures and a lack of progress. He gulped more coffee, the rim of the china cup disappearing under his thick salt-and-pepper moustache. True, the group had produced the improvements to military intelligence gathering technology that the retired colonel had swiftly patented and sold to the US military. They had also developed the personal safety equipment and home alarm systems that were shipped out from the very warehouse in which he sat, cocooned in his office fort. While the military improvements had gone some way towards repairing his reputation, it still wasn't enough. If the scientists could improve on their current idea, however, Cooper knew that he would be hailed as a hero once more. Under his moustache his lips curled into a tight grin. Oh yes, a hero once again.

The door knocked and Cooper slammed the delicate cup down on the hardwood desk.

"Enter," he bellowed.

One by one the members of his research cluster filed in, ushered into place by his harried aide, who was looking wilder with every new head that filed in. His name was Clark, or Clerk or something similar. Cooper didn't care. The scientists stood in silence, until Cooper permitted them to speak.

"Well?" the colonel asked gruffly.

Months before, each of the researchers would have jumped in, their words galloping over one another with no one person making any sense. They had since learned that this only made the fiery colonel worse, and so they now selected one spokesperson. The former army lieutenant Stephen Parker stepped forward as usual. His lab coat was almost painfully white in the bright office lights.

"Sir," Parker said with a snappy salute.

Despite neither man being in the military any more, both having been discharged under hushed up circumstances, the training ran deep and Cooper craved the respect.

"At ease, Lieutenant," he said. "What have you got for me?"

Now that Parker was worthy of Cooper's full attention, the old colonel noticed that the younger man was vibrating with excitement. This time, the quiver in his voice was not from trepidation. Cooper sat forward.

"We think we've done it," Parker said. "We think we've developed the compound to useable levels."

The man paused as if waiting for approval, but Cooper's expression remained cold. Parker gulped and turned to one of the other assembled scientists, gesturing for something. The third man produced a briefcase and almost threw it at Parker in his nervousness. Every person in the research cluster was a man. Colonel H. Francis Cooper's workplace was always as female-free as legally possible. After all, what did women know about science or hard work?

"Well, sir," Parker began, gently setting the case down on Cooper's desk, "we believe we're isolated the particular…bacterial strain, for want of a better term, that has the strongest effect."

Parker opened the briefcase and carefully pulled out a vial of a clear, inconspicuous liquid and a throwing dart. Cooper snorted.

"I suppose you want me to drink it and then score a bull's eye?" he asked. "That's hardly a conclusive test, when I can do that without help."

"Not quite," Parker said, unscrewing the top of the tube. "Yes, I would like you to throw the dart, but I don't want you to take the solution. That honour will go to Le Clercq."

"Who?"

At the back of the group Cooper's aide had suddenly gone deathly pale. He gulped as Parker handed him the vial.

"M-me?" he stuttered.

One of Cooper's bushy eyebrows twitched and he gestured for Parker to continue.

"I want Le Clercq to drink the solution," Parker said with a new confidence, "and then I want you, sir, to throw the dart at him. If we've been successful, there's a high probability that something will happen to stop Le Clercq from being harmed."

The aide was practically sliding down onto the floor as if his legs had been deboned. Cooper took the dart and turned it over in his hands. He grinned at Le Clercq from beneath his thick eyebrows.

"Go on," he said.

Le Clercq's fingers trembled violently as he held the little bottle and he winced as he gulped down the clear liquid. He coughed and gagged, and dropped the vial to grip at his throat.

"Bitter," he choked out.

"You must do it quickly," Parker said to Cooper. "It was a very small dose and it won't last for long."

The colonel grinned wider as he readied the dart. Le Clercq stood stiffly, though he trembled, and waited with his eyes tightly shut. Without another word Cooper drew his arm back and threw the missile. In a split second it hurtled across the office. Le Clercq remained in place with his eyes closed, but with inhuman reflexes his hand shot up and he caught the dart by the shaft.

There was a collective gasp as the assembled scientists took in what had just happened. Even Cooper struggled to keep his composure. Le Clercq opened his eyes and stared slack-jawed at the dart held firmly between his fingers. His already pale face went practically translucent

"I think, gentlemen," Cooper said, sitting back down and folding his hands in his lap, "that we can call that a successful test. You have finally done it; you have bottled luck."

The scientists were in too much shock to react to the first scrap of praise that Cooper had ever tossed to them.

"Only that substance could have caused this…worm to do that," Cooper continued. "He's a complete dolt, and what's worse, he's _Canadian_."

At that, Le Clercq collapsed onto the floor. He struck his head against the corner of an end table on the way down. It upset a vase, which fell and smashed over him as he hit the floor. The dart tumbled downwards and pierced the young man between the very finger and thumb that had just miraculously caught it. Cooper snorted, and Parker shrugged.

"I did say it was a weak dose."


	3. Chapter 3

_He is lying in the bed and he is comfortable. The silken sheets lap around him in gentle waves, caressing his skin. He stretches out and groans like a cat. He digs his fingers into the bed and waits. She will be here soon, and she will want nothing more than to pleasure him utterly. His fingertips tingle in anticipation and as each second ticks by he squirms with excitement. His muscles coil and contract and he feels he will simply burst._

In the back of his mind he knows what is going to happen. He knows the inevitable; he knows where it will go. His mind separates in two, into the excited, anticipatory self, and a second self. This self has a small mewling voice, a wavering little worry. Don't, don't, don't, _it says. But his first self is deaf to it. He cannot be warned._

She appears in the doorway, silhouetted against the sudden light. He shivers as she slides up against him; the leather of her boots creaks as she slowly, carefully, straddles him and reaches up to his face. She is wearing leather gloves; her fingers are cool on his hot face. Her hands drift down and he smiles, knowing what is coming. At the same time his second self is crying, Don't, don't, don't_. It knows what is really coming._

Her face changes. It disappears in the darkness and all he can see is her eyes, yellow and narrow. Her teeth gleam bright in a wide grin, sinister and terrible. Suddenly both of his selves come together; he knows what is coming. He tries to back away but she has him pinned between her muscular thighs. He cannot move an inch and strains his neck as he watches her hand reach downwards, downwards. Her pearly grin turns red and she clamps her hands down, her long nails digging into his most sensitive area, and without any care, she pulls.

***

Donatello sat bolt upright in his bed just in time to hear the scream erupting from his own throat. He clamped his hands over his mouth to stifle the sound. His arms trembled with aftershocks; his skin was drenched. As the need for oxygen became overpowering Don released the grip he had on his mouth and sucked in several deep, pounding breaths. The dream had plagued him for weeks now. He closed his eyes and thumped his fists on the mattress. He couldn't take much more of this. It was always the same, with the sinister smile and the…genital torture. He winced as the memory of the pain seared through him again, and he put his head in his hands.

After a short time spent trying to empty his mind of the horrendous dream he looked down at his digital alarm clock. The bright red lights picked '4am' out in the darkness. He buried his eyes under his palms again and waited for the inevitable knock at the door, despite the late hour. He looked up as his door opened slowly. Leonardo's head appeared around the doorjamb, illuminated by the dim light from the hallway outside.

"Donnie?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Don wished he could disappear under the covers and never return.

"Nothing, Leo, I'm fine," Don said.

The lie sounded hollow even to his own ears.

"You screamed, Donnie," Leo said. He walked in and closed the door. "Was it a nightmare?"

"Yeah," Don said reluctantly, casting his eyes downward and feeling every inch an admonished child.

"Have you been having them frequently?" Leo asked.

He looked as if his brain was putting the pieces of a thus far unsolved puzzle together. Don's recent behaviour was suddenly making sense.

"I've had a few, but it's nothing to worry about," Don said. The lie was bitter on his tongue.

"Just make sure it doesn't become a problem," Leo said.

The words could have been harsh, but their edge was blunted by Leo's concerned tone.

"I'm going to see Master Splinter to see if he can help me control the feelings –"

Don stopped and felt like clamping his hands over his mouth again, though he refrained.

"Feelings about what?" Leo asked, his face folding with concern even more.

"Nothing," Don said quickly, hopping down from his upper bunk. "I'm not really in the mood to talk about it."

His hands trembled as he propelled himself downwards, and he planted them firmly on his hips.

"Don…"

"Leo, please," Don cut in. "I don't think you need to worry about me right now when you have enough to worry about already. How is Mei doing?"

Leo looked as if he would like to smack Don on the back of the head for the obvious diversion, but his own worry overshadowed it and he sighed.

"We're both just concerned that something might go wrong," he said. "I wish the eggs would just hatch already so we can get it over with!"

Don patted Leo's shoulder and pasted on his supportive-and-knowledgeable fake smile.

"Everything will be okay," he said, "and you've got all of us to rely on once the babies come. It'll be a lot of work! But it'll be worth it."

"Yeah," Leo said. "It feels like it's been such a long time coming. I know Mei laid her eggs just a handful of months ago, but it feels like years! I guess…" Leo's voice faltered. "I guess we're just worried that something will go wrong, because this could be our only chance. Who knows if we'll be lucky enough to fertilize again? You said it yourself, it was a fluke."

"Not as much of a fluke as Raph and Mona!" Don said. He breathed in deeply as the levity washed the pain and fear away. "That is something I will never be able to explain."

Leo chuckled and turned towards the door again.

"Well, at least it's a happy circumstance," he said. "Soon you'll be an uncle four times over, if things go well."

Don followed Leo out into the hallway and nodded.

"It's going to be one heck of an experience," Don said, "but I'm looking forward to it. I'm at least looking forward to an end to Mona and Raph's yelling."

Leo chuckled again and tucked his thumbs into his belt.

"Yeah," he said. "Well, I'm going to go back to bed now. Don't stay up too late."

Don nodded.

"I'm just going to get a drink and go back myself," he said, though he knew that there was no chance of him getting any more rest tonight.

***

The walls of the little cell seemed to be closing in more and more every day. On her thin mattress and dressed in her plain cotton nightgown, the young woman shifted onto her side and sighed. While the convent was no prison, cell was an apt description of her lodgings. The walls were painted a smooth cream and were bereft of any decoration except a small crucifix that she had varnished herself. The battered body of Christ that hung on the simple wooden frame looked down at her day and night. She often found herself staring at the crucifixes dotted around the convent. When she had been a child, one day she had started to cry over the images in the illustrated children's version of the Bible the nuns had ordered especially for her. The portly librarian Sister Constance had rushed over to her and placed her ham-like hands on her shoulders, asking what was wrong.

_"It's so sad," the little girl had sniffed. "I don't know why you put such horrible pictures in this book. That poor man got killed and you're drawing pictures of it!"_

Sister Constance had given her a sympathetic gaze and brushed the girl's long red hair away from her face.

"Oh, little Mary Gabriel, you don't understand. These pictures are of the ultimate sacrifice our Lord made to save man from eternal damnation. We need to see them so we never forget that."

The young woman swung her short legs over the edge of the bed. She scrunched her toes into the coarse carpet. Mary Gabriel wasn't her name. The nuns had given her that name when they took her in after finding her roaming the streets, cold and starving and utterly terrified. They said her name wasn't a name at all, and she needed a new one. Her name was Beta, but apparently it wasn't good enough. So the nuns called her Mary Gabriel, but to herself she was always just plain Beta.

She reached her arms out and stared at her hands. They weren't the four-fingered pink and perfect hands that the nuns said Christ died to save. Instead they were green and webbed, attached to the end of her green arms, which were attached to her green and yellow torso. Beta curled up her short reptile's tail and stared down at her green webbed feet. Sometimes she wondered if the nun's Christ had died to save her, too – and if for her, then for her sister, too? Beta walked to the high window and stood on her tiptoes to see out. She could only see the windows of the buildings on the opposite side of East 68th Street, and in them the reflections of the stars. It had been fifteen years since she had seen her sister. One day Alpha had escaped from their strange, grey metal home, which was more like a cage. Beta had never seen her again. She was only five, and her sister just seven. They weren't really even sisters, but two parts of a strange experiment.

This was what Beta had been able to piece together from her shattered memories. One day there had been a lot of commotion; Beta remembered the gripping fear as the shadows of men rushed past her, screaming and shouting, trying to destroy things. One of them had knocked her cage over, and she had slipped out between their legs and into the darkness. There were patches in her memories, but she remembered falling into water, which she now knew was the Hudson River, and floating downstream until scrambling ashore.

She had stumbled through the darkness and had eventually fallen at the feet of a strange woman in a long black cloak. Beta had thought it was a witch come to punish her for being naughty and running away and getting all wet. But the woman hadn't been a witch at all, had picked her up and brought her to the place that was to become her home for the next fifteen years. That had been Sister Mary Urban, who was now the Mother Superior of the convent. It had been Sister Mary Urban who had fought for Beta's right to sanctuary, despite her strange appearance, and it was she who now allowed Beta the freedom of exploring the outside world.

The young woman turned away from the window and sat back down on the bed. She yearned to get back out into the city again. There was so much to see! She had fought so hard to wheedle permission from Mary Urban to get out in the first place, and she didn't want to risk having that permission revoked again. She would have loved to have escaped out into the night right now…but no, she couldn't. If something happened, then the Mother Superior would revoke her privileges and make her do penance, and it could be another fifteen years before she was able to leave. Beta crawled back into bed and snuggled into the plain but serviceable blanket. The real reason she wanted to get out was so that one day, with a lot of luck, she might be reunited with her sister once more. Her memory was fading, but she could still make out Alpha's pretty green face, free of the dark green stripe that ran vertically down Beta's own, and she could still feel the soft brown tresses that she used to plait when they were locked away in their cage. Perhaps one day she would catch a glimpse of that face again. Beta wiped away a tear and buried her head in the pillow, trying to will herself into a quiet, dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Every day started the same way for the former colonel. H. Francis Cooper rose early in his apartment off Amsterdam Avenue in Manhattanville. The automatic coffee maker had his morning drink ready and he always placed two slices of fine white bread into the toaster oven. He would stare out of the long, high kitchen window and watch as the sun rose up above the tall buildings as the smell of toasting bread filled the white kitchen. Cooper had built up a variety of substantial investments throughout his army career, most hidden from the view of the taxman, and even when he was discharged he never found himself wanting for anything. With his research company going from strength to strength, money was never an object.

Cooper snatched the toast from the over and spread the crispy surface liberally with a homemade strawberry conserve imported in from England. The colonial bastards certainly new how to make a good jam. The old colonel sat down at the solid oak table in the kitchenette and left the counter strewn with crumbs and smears of strawberry. Manuela or Maria or whatever her name was would be in later to clean up after him. He avoided cleaning as much as possible to make sure she always earned every dollar he gave her. Cooper gulped down the rest of his coffee and set the mug beside the dishwasher, before completing his ablutions and dressing for work.

It was a short commute to the warehouse near the Harlem River and as always his chauffer was waiting for him with the door open when he exited the apartment building. Cooper paid no attention to the chaff around him and kept his attention on his smart phone to catch up on his emails before arrival. He needed to know who he should be angry with. As usual his inbox was full of updates from his PA. The man never seemed to sleep, and instead used every moment of the day to rat on other colleagues in the building. Cooper snapped his phone shut and grinned. He had groomed the boy into a first class snitch. Le Clercq had been a member of Cooper's team for years now, and was of indeterminate age. The Canadian's neck had been saved from the block by some quick and creative thinking on his behalf years before when Cooper's most controversial plan had nearly been the end of them all.

Cooper squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will the memory of his worst failure away. Project Super Soldier had cost him dearly. If it hadn't been for the dirt he had on many other officers, he could have seen himself dishonourably discharged and thrown onto the street. Instead he was allowed to slip quietly away, and try to claw back his reputation from his private sector business exploits. This luck virus, if successful in tests, could be the ultimate achievement. What government wouldn't want a guarantee that all of their military exploits would succeed? The US army would become the greatest force known to man, and Cooper would be king of that success. No one would ever dare to mention Project Super Solider again. Its failure would be blotted out of existence by the ultimate triumph of his latest creation.

Cooper stared out at the high rise buildings as his driver slowly wound his way through the NYC traffic. It had been such a promising idea. If they had only given it a chance, if only the subjects had developed correctly… Even with the luck virus there would still be a loss of some life. However, to create genetic replications of soldiers and put them in the most dangerous roles, and once the worst of the fighting was over, to allow the humans to come in and wipe up…that would have been a great victory. They had even gone further, created a genetic splice of human and reptile to give the soldiers greater speed, greater agility, a heavy-duty tail for balance and as an offensive weapon. However, when the top brass had found out exactly what Cooper had been up to they were aghast. To tamper with the genetic code and create human/animal hybrids was a step too far, even for the more corrupt generals. Why couldn't they see the benefit? Why wouldn't they let him save human lives and put disposable and easily replaced super soldiers in their places? They said it would jeopardise the whole military. NaTo would be on to them, Amnesty, PETA; they would be vilified. It had to be covered up. Everything had to be destroyed.

What the generals never knew was that the first sentient subject had escaped over a year before. Despite his team's incessant searching they had never found her – it, Cooper reminded himself. It was female in appearance, but it was still an 'it', a nonentity. In the aftermath of the clearout the other one had slipped away as well. Cooper blamed that one on the government and their heavy-handedness. To his knowledge, that one had never been seen again either. The two of them were probably dead in the sewers. They had only been children; the faster growth of some of the previous models had caused numerous problems, and all had resulted in death. They would have been able to crack it. They would have been able to make it work if only they had been left alone.

Cooper stepped out of the vehicle as his chauffeur opened the door for him. He pulled a fat Cuban stogie from his jacket pocket and lit it as he entered his building. They had called the two Alpha and Beta, even though there had been many before. They had been so sure they could make it work they had started with a clean slate. Gamma had been incubating when the military and the government came in to whitewash over all his work. He had watched the cylinder being smashed, and the nutrients containing the zygote being washed away.

***

Michelangelo leapt across the gap between two buildings and rolled as he landed. He sprang up again and launched himself at the silo on the building's roof and slid down its side. Just behind him Donatello vaulted across the roof and the two of them landed together on the next building, clinging onto the rusting fire escape.

"Feels good to get out of the lair!" Mike said, swinging around into a sitting position.

"Yeah," Don said, putting his bo back in his belt and leaning on the railing. "It's nice to get some fresh air – well, relatively fresh anyway."

Concealed in shadow, the brothers watched the hustle of the city below for a short while. Don revelled in the comfortable silence between the two of them. Mike stretched and yawned and propped his chin up in his palm.

"I'm seriously thinking of getting my room soundproofed," he said.

Don snorted.

"You mean you're seriously thinking of asking me to soundproof your room for you."

Don grinned as Mike gave him his best innocent look.

"Well, I am your most favouritest brother," he said.

Don barked out a laugh and palmed the back of his head.

"I know how you feel. Part of my can't wait until the baby is born, but then we'll have Mona and Raph yelling _and_ a baby wailing! Never mind soundproofing your room, I'll be doing my own!"

"Maybe we should move out," Mike said. "Or better yet, we should move them out!"

Don tapped his chin thoughtfully and nodded.

"It would be a good idea to let them set up on their own," Don said. "I mean, it wasn't that hard to build a place for Des and the guys. I wonder if they've thought about it."

"I don't care whether they've thought about it or not, they're going!"

Don laughed again.

"I don't think we can throw them out, Mike," he said. Don shook his head. "It's strange how our lives have changed even just over the past six months. We've gone from the four of us brothers, Mei, Mona and Sensei, to all of us plus three more turtles and four babies on the way."

Mike nodded.

"Yeah, who'd'a thunk there would be a population boost in the sewers?" he asked. "I still can't get used to the idea of being an uncle."

"It's strange alright," Don said.

There was a moment of silence between them before Mike sighed and kicked his heels against the metal railings.

"Everyone's hooking up but me," he said.

Don's mouth widened in a silent 'oh', as if several pieces of a puzzle had finally fallen into place.

"So _that's_ why you've been so gloomy recently," he said.

Mike looked at him with mock offense and touched his fingertips to his plastron.

"Moi?" he asked. "Gloomy?"

"Well, gloomy for you, anyway," Don said.

Mike looked as though he was swelling up with bluster to blow the comments away, but he suddenly deflated and instead shrugged his shoulders, his head bobbing in his hand.

"I guess," he said. "First Raph, then Leo, now you; where's the lovin' for poor old Mike?"

"I wouldn't be so quick to compare me to Raph and Leo," Don said. "Des and I have only been 'dating' each other for a handful of months now, and who knows if that will last."

"You get my point though," Mike said. "You still have someone, even if she is a little scary."

Don nodded and clapped Mike's shoulder.

"None of us ever thought we would find anyone," he said. "You don't know what's around the corner. You're still young – hell, we all are! And considering the amount of dimension-hopping and time-travelling we seem to do, someone will come along."

Mike nodded and hopped up onto the railing, observing the hustle of the city at night.

"I guess. I mean, if you can find someone, then it'll be a piece of cake for me!"

"Hey!"

Don launched himself after Mike as the latter jumped down the fire escape, threw his nunchaku around a downspout and swung away. The brothers continued their secret chase for several hundred meters of rooftop until Mike stopped abruptly at a building edge and held out a hand.

"Who, Donnie! Look!"

Don drew up to the lip of the roof and stared downwards at what Mike was pointing at. In the depths of the shadows he could see three figures. One was a man who was looming over the other two; he was wielding a knife, which glinted in the dim light of the alleyway. One of the others was a man who was lying on the ground, curled into a foetal position and groaning loudly. The third was barely visible in the darkness, but Mike could just make out the silhouette of a diminutive woman in a black robe, a deep hood over her head.


	5. Chapter 5

The first thing Beta had learned about New York was that it was huge. The second thing was that it was very easy to get lost in it. All the tall buildings were thrown up like an impenetrable brown and grey hedge maze. She couldn't go over or under, she simply had to stumble though. Beta wandered around the streets and parks of the district shown on her tourist maps as 'Harlem', but as the world was swirling around in a syrupy darkness. Eventually, tears began running down her smooth green cheeks.

_Mother Mary Urban will scold me so badly!_ she thought. _ I should be home by now! Why did I let my stupid curiosity get the better of me?_ Beta slipped past several brightly lit shops, dodging in between other pedestrians and making sure her hood was firmly stuck over her head. Its deep shadow was perfectly accented by the dark evening. She kept her gaze lowered and walked as fast as she could without breaking into a run. Running was undignified, no matter how afraid you were. The nuns never ran. Then again, they didn't exactly walk either. Rather, they seemed to glide over the old wooden floors of the convent, the toes of their shoes never peeping out from beneath the hems of their long skirts. Beta had mastered that skill quickly, though through need rather than desire. Her webbed toes didn't fit comfortably in shoes, and no one could ever be allowed to see her feet.

She floated as fast as she could along the sidewalks with her head down, until there was a sudden shadow in front of her and she walked forehead first into the rock-hard abdomen of a very tall man.

"Watch where you goin', Sista," he said in a rich, growling voice.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Beta said, frantically scrambling to keep her hood pulled down. "I…I…"

Her voice dried up suddenly as the street became painfully empty. Where had all the people gone? Were there ever any there? Considering how total Beta's concentration had been on the sidewalk, who knew?

"Shut up," the man snapped.

His eyes were wide and his pupils were like pinpricks. He grabbed onto her shoulder and manhandled her around a corner and into a dank alleyway. Beta was propelled forwards and flattened herself against the rough brick of the wall and stared out from beneath her hood. The man reached into his faded denim jacket and pulled out an impossibly long knife from its depths. Beta whimpered as fresh tears spilled from her bright eyes.

"I'm gonna cut up whatever you're hidin' under that hood of yours," the man said.

He loomed over her and reached out to lift the hem of the fabric with the tip of his knife. Blood roared in Beta's ears and she had the sudden idea to bite his fingers. Just as she opened her mouth there was a loud shout. She flinched.

The knifeman pulled away as a second man ran into the alley.

"Hey!" the man called out.

"Stay out of this, man," the knifeman said, still holding the knife in front of Beta's face.

"G-Dog, I thought you were done with all this shit," the second man said.

The knife began to shake and Beta gulped sharply. Her throat felt like it was only the width of a pin.

"Stay the hell away from me, Jared!" G-Dog said. "You don't know nothin', you don't know what you're gettin' into."

Beta's fingers in their black gloves – special gloves she had sewn herself just to suit her own reptilian hands – clutched at the rough skin of the brick wall and she whimpered again. This was surely the end of her adventuring.

The man named Jared began to approach them. G-Dog whirled on him, the knife finally away from Beta's face. There was a flurry of activity followed by a hollow and echoing 'umph' and suddenly Jared was lying on the ground among debris and broken glass. The darkness was pierced with an expanding pool of glistening blood. Forgetting her own plight, Beta ran to the other man and knelt at his side. The hem of her robe began to soak up the viscous blood. It was warm on the soles of her feet.

"Now," G-Dog said, "let's see what you're hiding under that hood of yours."

Beta cried out as G-Dog loomed over her, the metallic tang of blood sharp in the air, and the tip of the knife glimmering red in the dim street light. It was almost at her face when a new voice cried out loudly, the word echoing against the crumbling walls.

"Cowabunga!"

***

The two turtle brothers landed in tandem as in the dark alley. The echo of Mike's battle cry dissipated and the two immediately drew their weapons

"Tut, tut," Don said. "Attacking a nun? You can't get much lower than that."

"Yeah, dude," Mike said, stepping forward. "Doesn't that get you, like, a million years bad luck?"

The man wielding the knife stepped away from the nun and the victim who was curled up in a pool of blood.

"What the…"

He stared at the two bulky figures picked out by the moonlight and growled, turning the knife on them. He launched himself at Mike, who deftly jumped out of the way. Donatello swept his bo in a wide arc and knocked the knife away. It skidded off amidst the debris. The man backed off and tried to retrieve the bloodied instrument, but Mike was on him immediately and bound the man's wrists with his nunchaku.

"Oh no you don't, dude."

Don dug into his bag and threw some rope to Mike, who got the man onto the ground and hog-tied him.

"That'll hold you until the cops find you," he said.

"What the hell are you?" the man yelled, but it was the last thing he could say before a discarded alleyway rag was tied around his mouth.

With the knifeman firmly secured and Mike standing guard, Donatello knelt down beside the bleeding victim. The nun was cowering near the wall; Don gave her a brief, friendly smile as he inspected the man's wounds.

"It's not too serious," Don said. "There's a lot of blood, but it's a relatively shallow cut."

Mike came a little closer, still keeping an eye on his charge. He held up his hands as the nun pressed her back to the wall and tried to shimmy away.

"Hey, it's okay," Mike said. "I know we're weird lookin' dudes, but we're not gonna hurt you."

The nun said nothing, her face obscured by the hood and its deep shadow.

"Will you get home okay?"

Again the nun said nothing, and she shifted again. This time her hood caught on a rusty nail driven into the mortar of the bricks. As she pulled away the hood came down and ripped. Mike's jaw dropped as he took in the sight.

"What the shell?"

Don's head snapped around at the exclamation and saw a green face with a dark green stripe running down the middle. It was the face of a female mutant-like creature, framed with a mane of thick red hair.

"Oh, no!" the girl cried.

In a flash she freed her cowl from the nail, threw it over her head, and fled the scene, leaving behind a trail of bloody footprints.

"Hey, wait!"

Mike went to pursue her but at that moment the knifeman broke free from his bonds and reached for a nearby broken bottle. Mike gritted his teeth as the saw the nun disappear into the street, and he broke off the pursuit to bind the criminal once again. The man was grunting and spitting through his dirty gag, but Mike's mind was running after the strange girl. The man managed to spit the rag out of his mouth.

"This city's full of monsters!" he said, writhing in Mike's solid grip.

"Yeah," Don said as he finished a basic clean of the wounded man's abdomen, "and you're one of the worst!"

He lifted the man up and placed him as close to the alley's entrance as possible without stepping into the light. Mike shoved the gag back into the knifeman's mouth and bound his hands again.

"Drag him to the kerb," Don said. "It won't be long before someone calls the cops."

Mike tossed the hog-tied criminal onto the street and immediately the turtles leapt up between the buildings and onto the rooftop. Mike yelled out a cry for help, and it wasn't long before someone found the two men and someone called 9-1-1. The brothers watched as the scene unfolded and the emergency services flooded the alley.

"That was…odd," Mike said, folding his arms and scouring the streets with his gaze. "Did you see her face?"

"Yeah," Don said. "It was weird. She looked kind of familiar."

"Man," Mike said. "Weird night."

"Agreed," Don said. "And with our good deed done, let's go home."

The two turtles leapt back across the rooftops, but with every jump he found himself staring down at the streets below, looking for the figure of a small nun with a very big secret.


	6. Chapter 6

The lair was buzzing with activity in a way it hadn't in a long time. Only the Christmas dinner, so many years ago, when the turtles had invited all their friends to join them came close. Donatello perched on the arm of the couch and basked in the warmth of familial bliss as his brothers and their newest guests exchanged stories and laughs. He sipped at his beer and smiled. It was nice for everyone to be together without an argument in sight.

Mona and Raphael were cuddled together on one of the other couches, with April and Casey beside them. Casey had his arm flung over April's shoulders; her face was a picture of contentment. _I remember when I used to wish I could be with her_, Don thought. _It seems like a million years ago. I never thought I'd be with anyone, but now…_ He glanced down at the top of Desdemona's head, watching as the light shone off the synthetic fibres of her wig. It looked every inch like real hair. She sensed his glance and looked up. She gave him a rare, brief smile. Her hand reached out and she traced a line along his thigh with one of her long nails. Don suppressed a shiver and tentatively reached out an arm to mimic Casey and drape it over Des's shoulders. She didn't look back up at him, but she didn't recoil either, so Don took that as a good sign. _I wish women came with instructions sometimes_, he thought, but took pleasure in this small victory. Another small victory was that Des was sticking to cola and avoiding liquor. She was making slow but steady progress in trying to give up cigarettes and alcohol, but it was difficult to break the habits of a difficult lifetime.

Sitting on the floor at the low table were Leo and Mei. They were looking frazzled and worried, but still seemed to be enjoying themselves. Their children were due to hatch any day now. They held each other's hands in a loose grip and exchanged frequent, reassuring smiles. Nearby Splinter was enthroned in his patchwork armchair, with Mike leaning against it. The old rat didn't say much, but seemed to regard the small group with pleasure. It wasn't often that the whole family got together, and the patriarch was clearly going to enjoy every moment he could.

Lastly, Othello and Cassio were seated beside Desdemona on the couch. Cassio had his legs drawn up underneath him and had been unusually quiet. Don suspected there had been a stern warning from Desdemona to keep his mouth closed and not say anything raunchy. There were times when he looked as though if he didn't get to say what he wanted to say he would burst, but each time he curbed his enthusiasm and simply laughed. Othello had been his usual silent self, though Don was slightly concerned about him. The tall mutant seemed to have dropped a lot of weight again; his bony hands shook and he seemed to be avoiding picking up his glass. Don filed the thought away for later and allowed his attention to slide back towards the conversation happening around him.

"Ugh," April said, sipping her drink, "I can't imagine being pregnant. Your breasts get big, your butt gets fatter – everything gets huge!"

"Not everything," Mona said, setting down her cola and struggling to stand up. Raph's hands were immediately supporting her. "Your bladder sure doesn't get bigger, so if you'll excuse me…"

"Again?" Mike asked. "You're gonna spring a leak over there!"

"And you're gonna end up with a fat lip if ya don't shut your yapper," Raph said as he steadied Mona.

Mike held his hands up in surrender. Mona shook her head and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"You're sweet to stick up for me, Raph," she said, "but please don't kill anyone while I'm gone, hmm? It'll ruin the party atmosphere."

"No promises," Raph said, keeping his narrowed eyes fixed on Mike, who was giving him his best feigned offended stare, complete with a quivering lower lip.

Mona slipped off to attend to her business and Mike jumped into the seat beside Raph.

"So, future-dad," he said, taking on an interviewer's tone, "how do you feel about becoming a father? Give us the real scoop now that the ball-and-chain is gone."

He held an invisible microphone up to Raph's face. Raphael grunted and crossed his arms.

"Ball-and-chain, eh? I'll tell Mona you said that," he said. "An' anyway, I thought a ball-and-chain was only when you were married, and we ain't!"

"Oh, man, you don't gotta be married to have a ball-and-chain," Casey said, glancing pointedly at April.

April punched him in the shoulder and Casey gave the pretence of being injured.

"I didn't say anything about you, babe," he said.

"Not out loud anyway," April replied.

Mike turned his fake microphone to the redhead and grinned.

"Have you ever thought of having any kids? Would you like to head the pitter-patter of tiny, baseball-bat wielding feet running through your apartment?"

Casey glared daggers at Mike, but April shrugged her shoulders.

"I guess one day," she said. "But until this one grows up I don't think I could cope with having another kid."

"Hey!"

There was a ripple of laughter throughout the room, and Mei stood up and dusted herself off.

"After all this talk of children, I shall go and check on mine," she said.

Leo gave her a smile and watched as she disappeared off to the Greenhouse. Mona reappeared and shooed Mike out of her seat, and flopped down heavily. Raph's brows drew together.

"Be careful," he said. "It's a baby, not a sack of potatoes."

"I feel like a sack of potatoes," Mona said. She picked up her glass and gave it to Raph. "Could you get me some more soda?" she asked.

"What, and you couldn't have done that yourself when you were still on your feet?"

"Raph!" April admonished, practically jumping up out of her seat.

Mona waved at her friend and grinned.

"Just ignore him," she said. "I know I do."

"Not often enough," Raph grumbled. "Anyone else want anything?"

Several more glasses were thrust out to him, and his shoulders sagged.

"Just drinks? Anyone want their car washed? Their shoes shined?"

"Well, if you're offerin'," Casey said, lifting up one muddied boot.

Raoh grunted again and beckoned for Mike to help him carry the glasses, and the brothers disappeared towards the kitchen. There was a moment's silence between the gathered parties but it was suddenly pierced by the sound of breaking glass, and a second later a scream. The glass had been in the kitchen, but the scream was from the Greenhouse. Leo was immediately on his feet and rushing towards it. Don hopped off the couch arm and hurried after him.

"Ya clumsy ape!" Raph yelled in the kitchen.

Mike's retaliation was lost as Don ran into the Greenhouse and saw Mei with her hands to her face, her eyes brimming with tears.

"They're hatching!" Leo said as his own eyes began to fill.

The 'Doctor Don' hat was suddenly and firmly in place, and Donatello began scanning through the information shown in the readouts on the incubator sides. All three eggs had developed little cracks in them, and they were beginning to rock gently from side to side.

"You guys stay there and watch," Don said, "and I'll go and let the others know there's nothing wrong. It won't be long now," he added in as reassuring a voice as he could muster.

Leo and Mei's eyes were fixed on the incubators and it was entirely possible that they hadn't heard a word Don had said. Don closed the Greenhouse door behind him and hurried back over to the small group. Every pair of eyes was on him.

"The eggs are beginning to hatch," he said.

A cry of jubilation went up. Raph and Mike, their dispute forgotten, gave each other a high five.

"All of them?" Splinter asked.

"Yes, Sensei," Don said. "In a short time you'll be a grandfather times three!"

Splinter puffed up with pride and his mouth stretched into an impossibly wide grin.

"Wonderful," he said. "How apt that we are all together so that we may celebrate the new arrivals."

"I know the perfect way to celebrate!" Mike said. All eyes swivelled to him. "Let's order pizza!"

***

It was the most wondrous thing Don had ever had the pleasure to witness. The three eggs quickly began to split and a spider web of cracks appeared across the porcelain surface. Leonardo and Mei's eyes were fixed on the widening cracks, and the three of them waited in silence as the little turtles began to struggle from their shells.

The larger of the male eggs was the first to split completely. Mei let out a little whimper as a sharp-clawed hand poked out of the smooth shell, and was quickly joined by another. The anxious parents peered into the incubator, and as the baby's pointed nails pushed away more of the surface, its head popped into the light.

"Oh my!" Mei gasped.

Don felt tears brim in his own eyes as the little face scrunched up against the light. The baby's eyes were squeezed closed and his little mouth was tightly shut. After a few moments he began to open and close his toothless beak, and eventually he opened his eyes. They were identical to his father's.

Tears were streaming down both parents' cheeks, and Don could see that Mei was desperate to hold her first-born son. However, as instructed by Don she kept her hands to herself until the baby was more or less freed from its shell. It was a curious little creature, very pudgy like a human baby but with those long, dark and sharp nails, clearly to help with escaping from the egg. Don imagined that they would likely soon fall out. His skin was smooth and a rich green, and he began blinking those deep brown eyes and staring around himself. It was unclear what skills the baby mutant turtle would hatch with. Would it be virtually helpless, like a human child? Or would it be more world-ready like the offspring of turtles? Certainly it could already sit up, albeit shakily. As if it suddenly realised it was no longer inside its protective cocoon, the little turtle began to wail.

As soon as Don gave the nod for Mei to pick her child up her hands were in the incubator in a flash, and she held the crying baby to her chest and sobbed. Leonardo's face was streaked with tears of his own.

"Our baby," Mei choked out, "our first baby!"

"And here comes number two," Don said.

In a matter of minutes after the first male egg had hatched the head of the little baby girl was visible through the eggshell. This time it was Leo who could not wait to get his hands on his offspring, and he too clutched the child to his chest as soon as he was able. _Two down, one to go_, Don thought. _And so far so good_. The girl joined in with her brother's cries; Leo and Mei held the children together, their faces mirror images of joy and terror.

Finally the third egg spilt, but the little turtle seemed to be having a hard time freeing itself. Only one clawed hand appeared, but eventually it pulled away enough shell to get its head freed. After an agonising wait, the second boy was revealed. Don gulped and felt a different kind of tears well up in his eyes. Only one hand had appeared because it was the only one the child had. One arm was perfectly normal, but the other was deformed. The lower portion of the limb was missing, leaving the child with nothing below the elbow but several stubby finger-like protrusions jutting out from it. With the parents' arms full, Don reached into the incubator and picked the child up. Unlike the other two, its eyes did not seem to be focusing on anything. Otherwise, it seemed healthy. Don sighed and showed the child to his parents.

Mei's face fell as she took in the sight of her second born son, but after a few moments she shook the shock from her face and shifted her first born into one arm, holding out the other for her third baby. Don handed the little child over and Mei brought him close to her chest.

"They are all perfect," she said firmly. "They are all just wonderful."

Leonardo leaned into her and cupped her cheek gently in his free hand.

"I love you so much, Mei Pei Chi," he said. He leaned in for a kiss. "Thank you for giving me something I thought I could never have."

Don crossed his arms as he took in the sight of the new family together. The babies had quieted, and Leonardo leaned down to press his forehead to Mei's. They were a picture of perfection, and Don couldn't help but smile.


	7. Chapter 7

The Greenhouse was deathly quiet. Even Mike couldn't hear anything with his head pressed up to the door. Don had evidently made sure it was soundproof.

"Oh, I'm so excited!" Mona said, practically bouncing up and down on the couch. "I'm going to be an auntie!"

"I know!" April said; her voice was higher with delight.

"Well don't get too excited," Raph said, placing a hand on Mona's shoulder to still her. "We don't want to make you a momma too early, an' with all this excitement that kid's gonna wanna come bouncin' out to see what it's all about."

"I know, I know," Mona said, making a visible effort to calm herself. "I just can't wait to see what the babies look like!"

Splinter folded his hands together in his lap and nodded.

"Indeed. I must say that I am looking forward to seeing the faces of my grandchildren for the first time." His face stretched into a wistful smile. "It is a day that I never dreamed would be possible."

Mike came bouncing back over to the gathering and perched on the back of the couch behind Cassio.

"Still nothing," he said. "I wonder how long it could take for the little guys to fight their way out?"

"It could be a few hours," Cassio said. "I remember when –"

His voice was silenced by a vicious glare from Desdemona. Othello's face looked pained, and he turned away. Cassio's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat and sank down in his seat.

"What?" Mike asked. "Come on, I wanna know."

Cassio found himself the centre of attention; he looked as though he wanted to disappear. Desdemona stood up and yanked Cassio up be the collar of the baggy t-shirt he was wearing and dragged him out of the lair. Othello hurried after them. Raph stared at their backs as they disappeared and shook his head.

"Weirdos," he said. "I knew bringing them back was bad news."

"They are…odd," April said. "I haven't really got to know them, but they seem strange, and not very friendly."

"Perhaps," Splinter said, "it is simply that they have gone through a sea-change in their lives, and have not yet had time to acclimatise to their new environment."

There was a moment's silence, before Raphael snorted.

"Nah, they're just weirdos."

Before Mike could jump in with a retort there was a commotion outside, and Casey appeared carrying a stack of pizza boxes. He shook his shaggy mane of hair, sending raindrops flying, looking every inch like a drowned dog.

"Man!" he said, setting the pizzas down on the coffee table, "that is the last time I go get pizza for you, Mikey. It's rainin' cats and frogs out there!"

April chuckled and knelt down on the floor to open the pizzas and dish them out.

"It's cats and _dogs_, Casey," she said.

"Dogs, frogs, whateva. It's still pourin'!" He looked around and saw the empty spaces on the couch. "Where did those guys go?"

"I think there was a bit of a…domestic dispute," Mona said.

Casey shrugged and dug his big hand into one of the pizza boxes.

"That just leaves more for the rest of us!" He went to take a bite from the slice, but eyed it warily. "What the hell is this? It that…a marshmallow?"

"Oh, that's mine!" Mona said, reaching up to snatch the slice from him. "Marshmallow and anchovies, delicious!"

She devoured the pizza in several large bites. Casey looked as though he was going to swiftly lose his lunch, and possibly breakfast as well.

"Gross," he said.

Raph shook his head and reached for a slice with a more traditional topping of pepperoni.

"It's not gross, it's pregnancy," he said.

"Thank you, Raphie," Mona said, sauce spread around her lips.

Raph simply grunted in response.

***

It was just as the last bite of pizza was taken when the door to the Greenhouse slowly opened and Donatello emerged.

"Get yourselves ready guys," he called, "and make space for the newest members of our family."

Mona clapped her hands over her mouth and her eyes scrunched up in delight, and April grinned more widely than Don had ever seen. Clearly she had a maternal streak that they had never seen before. Maybe that was what all women were like. _Maybe not al_l, he thought, and scanned the gathered crowd for Desdemona. Strangely, both she and her brothers were gone. Don shook off the curiosity to attend to more important issues, though his heart did lurch a little. What had happened? Maybe they didn't feel comfortable anymore.

He held the door open for the new parents and allowed them to pass him. The tears had dried up and were replaced by smiles of pure, unadulterated joy. Leo and Mei walked slowly over to the group, their babies swaddled in clean fleece blankets that April had bought.

As soon as Mona saw the tiny faces she began to wail; Raphael looked utterly lost as he tentatively patted her shoulder.

"Babe, it's…okay?" he stuttered.

"It's just so beautiful!" she cried, and buried her face in Raph's plastron.

Instead of sitting down in the vacated seats, Leo and Mei went straight to Splinter and knelt down in front of him.

"Father," Leo said, "meet your grandchildren. This is Yoshio, your oldest grandson," he said, gesturing to the larger of the boys in Mei's arms. "This is your granddaughter Xiu-Mei." He inclined his head to the girl in his own arms. "And this is the younger of my sons, Zhong." He paused and his voice caught in his throat. "They're all healthy," he said. "Though Zhong has a…slight disadvantage."

Splinter's delighted smile wavered for a moment. Leo pulled the blanket down from Zhong's little face to reveal his stunted arm. Splinter reached out for the child and gently cradled him to his chest. The others gathered around. There were gasps, and then silence.

"Ningen banji saiou ga uma," Splinter said.

"Sensei?" Leo asked.

Japanese language had never been his strong suit. Don stepped in.

"It translates something along the lines of 'All human affairs are like Saiou's horse'. It means that your luck is unpredictable and changeable," he said. "It comes from an old Chinese folk tale."

Mei's mouth curved into a small 'o' of recognition. Splinter adjusted the little bundle in his arms.

"There was once an old man named Sai, whose horse broke down his fence and ran away," Splinter said, taking on his well-honed storytelling tone. "The old man's neighbours were sorry for his misfortune, but he said to them, 'How do you know that this is not good luck?' Soon after the horse returned with another horse and his neighbours congratulated him for his fortune. However, Sai said to them, 'How do you know that this is really good luck?'

"After a time, the old man's son fell while riding the second horse and broke his leg. Again the neighbours commiserated with the old man. However, soon after this all the young men of the village were ordered to join the Emperor's army. Thankfully, Sai's son was spared because of his injury." Splinter carefully ran the tip of one of his long-nailed fingers along the side of Zhong's face. "We should not see this as bad fortune," he said. "Things are not always as they first appear."

April placed a hand on Mei's shoulder and leaned down to get a better look at the babies.

"They're all just beautiful," she said. "You must be so happy."

"Happy and grateful," Mei said.

She looked up and singled out Don for a wide smile. Don felt himself blush. He hadn't really done anything. The assembled group took turns in cooing over the babies, though the parents weren't ready to let anyone other than their grandfather hold them just yet. Don sat down heavily on the arm of the couch and sighed. _Three down, one to go._

***

When the buzz had died down and April and Casey had reluctantly gone home, Donatello excused himself from the group and jumped into the Sewer Slider. It wasn't a long journey to get to Des's place, but he was anxious to see her. Mike had filled him in on what had happened just before they had left. He pulled up outside their makeshift front door and pressed the buzzer. After a moment the door slid open.

"Oh, thank God," Cassio said. "Maybe you can sort my sister out."

He flounced back over to the dining table and sat down heavily. He picked up a file and resumed buffing his nails.

"What happened?" Don asked.

"Apparently I'm the worst brother in the world," Cassio said, rolling his eyes. "Maybe if someone _didn't keep so many secrets_," he bellowed, "then these things wouldn't happen in the first place!"

Don winced at the volume of the shriek.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"In her room," Cassio said. "She hasn't come out since she practically gave me a lobotomy with her shouting. Honestly," he huffed.

Don walked through the living room/kitchenette and towards the sleeping quarters in the back. Having designed the abode himself, he knew where everything was. He had never been to Desdemona's room before.

He knocked on the door and waited, but there was no stirring from inside. He knocked again and called for her, but there was still no response. Eventually Othello appeared from the room next door and beckoned Don inside.

"What's going on, Othello?" Don asked.

Othello gestured to the desk chair and sat himself down on the bed. Don glanced around. The shelves he had built were gradually filling up with second, third and fourth hand books that Othello was acquiring both from garbage-surfing and donations from Don, April and Splinter. The desk was covered in pens and piles of paper.

"Cassio nearly let something slip that he shouldn't have," Othello said. "And Des… Well, it's not something that she…or I, for that matter, ever want to discuss."

"What?" Don asked.

"Well, I guess you might as well know, though I would ask you that this goes no further than these walls."

"Sure, sure," Don said, sitting forward. What was going on?

"You know our history, and you know that Desdemona and I worked as – well, let's not sugar coat it: we were prostitutes."

"Yes," Don said. It was something he preferred not to think about.

"Well, there's one significant side-effect of having unprotected sex that Des didn't really think would affect her. We figured that because we were mutants, it was pretty much impossible for us to…you know."

"Oh God," Don said, covering his mouth with one hand.

"Yeah," Othello said. "We weren't the only mutant turtles in MuTo. There were thousands of mutants of every conceivable kind. And…I think you know where this is going."

"She got pregnant, didn't she?"

"Well, pregnant per-se. She laid an egg."

"Oh, God…"

"We didn't really know what to do with it. Father would have known, but then if Father had lived we probably wouldn't have been doing what we were doing. We tried to find out information on incubation et cetera, but we were totally lost. Eventually the egg hatched. It took hours, and eventually I stepped in and tried to pull the shell away because it was struggling that much. It was a little girl."

Othello looked close to tears. Don closed his eyes tightly and shook his head.

"She only lived for about a day," Othello said. "She was really small and very weak. She didn't stand a chance. When Cassio opened his big trap and nearly let it slip about how long it took for the egg to hatch, it brought up a lot of bad memories for Des. We never talk about it. She doesn't want to remember."

"Wow," Don said. "That's rough."

"She's disappeared into her room now," Othello said. "She won't come out until she can pretend nothing ever happened again. She tries to pretend things like this don't affect her, but they do."

"I guess there's no point in trying to get her to talk to me then," Don said.

"Right," Othello said.

Don shook his head again.

"'Wow' is all I can say."

"Yeah. Did Leonardo and Mei's babies hatch?" Othello asked.

Don felt a smile creep onto a face in spite of the story he had just heard.

"Yes, they did. They're all fine."

"Good," Othello said. "They're really cute, aren't they? Turtle babies, I mean."

"That they are," Don said. "Weird little creatures. But cute, yes."

Don stood up and placed his hands on his hips.

"Thanks for telling me that, Othello," he said,

Othello waved a bony hand.

"It's fine, just as long as you don't tell anyone."

"I won't." Don fixed him with a concerned stare. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "You seem a little more shaky than usual."

"I'm fine," Othello said, though his voice was a little more strained than before.

"Uh huh," Don said. "Well, please let Desdemona know that I was here."

"I will," Othello said.

The tall turtle showed Don out, and Don carefully manoeuvred the Sewer Slider around in the tunnels and headed home. It had been one unusual day.


	8. Chapter 8

Dinner was over and the gathered Hamato clan had dissipated. Mona Lisa sighed and plunged her gloved hands back into the soapy dishwater. Leonardo and Splinter had gone to the dojo for some tuning up on their swordsmanship; Mike had gone back to his room to continue his comic-fest after receiving a new shipment in the mail. Raphael had gone to tune up his bike, which was something he had been trying to get around to doing for several weeks, but Mona knew that she had been stopping him with her mood swings and clinginess. She was making a conceited effort to be less demanding of him, though as her pregnancy marched on it was becoming more and more difficult. Donatello had disappeared off to who-knew-where. Well, actually it was one of two places: his lab, or his girlfriend's.

Mona snorted and handed a newly cleaned dish over to Mei, who was doing the drying while watching over her three little charges, nestling in the large round basket she let them sleep in. The new mother was beaming with pride and couldn't keep her gaze from them for long. Mona felt her stomach lurch a little, for once not with nausea but with anticipation. It wouldn't be long before she too had that wide smile on her face. Mei's expression changed as she heard Mona's snort and she turned her attention to her friend.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No, nothing's wrong," Mona said. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" the Chinese turtle asked as she reached up on tiptoe to put the dried dish away.

"Just wondering where Donatello went to. Probably off to see the freaks again."

Mei's expression folded into one of disapproval and she shook her head.

"I don't think you should call them that," she said. "It's not very nice."

"Maybe not, but it's true," Mona said. She plunged her hands into the dishwater again and began rubbing vigorously at another plate. "I don't like the fact that Don's spending so much time with them, especially _her_."

Mei's pressed her mouth into a thin line and drew her brows closer together.

"Why do you say that?" she asked. "They seem to like one another."

Mona huffed out a breath and attacked a dried-on ketchup stain.

"He's too nice for someone like that. He's really sweet; he deserves better."

"What do you mean?" Mei said. Then she raised one eyeridge. "You're not jealous, are you?"

Mona blinked and shook her head sharply.

"Oh, God, no!" she said. "Me and Donnie? God, no. That's not what I mean. I don't know what exactly Leo's told you about them, but Raph's filled me in and they're bad news. All of them. You've been so wrapped up in your babies coming – and rightly too! He probably didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"About them."

"What about them?"

Mona handed over another cleaned dish and dove to the bottom of the sink for some cutlery.

"She and the tall one, Othello; they were both whores."

"Whores? You mean –" Mei's eyes widened.

"Yup, prostitutes. And the small one? Some kind of cabaret dancer. That's why I'm worried about Don. I don't think he should get caught up with them. Why Leo ever let them come back here I'll never understand. Raph doesn't either."

Mei was silent for a moment as she dried the dish and put it away.

"I didn't know that," she said. "I can understand why you're worried. I wouldn't want to see Donatello harmed either."

"I honestly don't know what he sees in her. 'Desdemona'; she even sounds like bad news. And the way she dresses? Skyscraper high leather boots and fishnet stockings? It's hardly a family-friendly outfit."

Mei was silent for a while, before setting down her dishcloth.

"I don't think you should judge someone by their past," she said. "Leonardo told me about the place they lived in and the circumstances they came to be in, though I admit he didn't tell what they had done. Donatello is intelligent; he will not let himself get hurt."

Mona drew her hands from the water and placed them on her hips. Soapy water slipped down underneath her prominent baby bump.

"I don't doubt that Don is a smart guy, but I don't think he understands love or romance or even sex. She's aggressive; she's dominant. I can tell just by looking at her. She'll squash him."

Mei shook her head.

"I think you're wrong. She might be those things, but I don't think she will squash Donatello. Perhaps he is aware of those things, and he actually wants them. We don't know, and it is not our business to know. And people are not always what they seem. We don't know any of them well enough to pass judgement."

"So you're saying Don wants someone to chain him up and walk all over him for kicks? Geez, Mei."

"That's not what I said! I meant –"

She suddenly stopped and turned around as a gentle cough sounded in the background.

"Huh, it's nice to see that my love life is so interesting to you ladies."

Don was standing in the doorway holding an empty coffee mug. He placed it on the table and leaned over the basket containing his three new nephews and niece. Mei's mouth worked but no sound came out, and she turned towards Mona and scowled fiercely.

"What?" Mona asked. "It's not a crime to be concerned about a friend!"

"You can keep your concern to yourself," Don said, reaching in to pet the cheek of Xiu-Mei. The little baby opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "Especially when you have no idea what you're talking about."

Don smiled back at the little baby, before turning on his heel and exiting the kitchen.

"Oh, Mona!" Mei exclaimed. "Sometimes you do not know when to keep your beak out of other people's business! Now look what's happened!"

"It wasn't just me!" she exclaimed. "Raph's worried too! And I don't apologise for what I've said. It's true!"

She snapped off her rubber gloves and threw them into the sink.

"You can finish these by yourself!" she said.

She stomped out of the kitchen and disappeared into the upper levels. Mei stared at the empty space she had just occupied, and sighed. She wanted to believe that tirade was all from the pregnancy, but in truth it wasn't. She female turtle walked over to her three babies and shook her head.

"Auntie Mona can just be very closed-minded sometimes," she said. "I think we should visit Uncle Don, hmm?"

Leaving the rest of the dishes undone, Mei hefted the basket into her arms and headed off in the most likely direction she would find Don: the lab.

***

Don drummed his fingers on his desk before standing up sharply and pacing around the room. He threw himself back down onto the chair and placed his head in his hands. He could do nothing but groan. His cheeks were roasting against his palms and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. What a horrific conversation to walk in on.

He had arrived at the kitchen door just in time to hear Mona talking about Desdemona squashing him. Then she had mentioned chaining him up… The memory brought back the same mixture of anger and embarrassment. If the ground opened up and swallowed him, he would welcome it.

He was furious at Mona. He knew that she didn't like Desdemona from the few fleeting remarks he had heard from her, but he had never called her on them. It didn't really matter what she thought, and he didn't want to upset her in her delicate state. This time she had gone too far, though. The comments about Des squashing him went too far, not to mention the accusation that he knew nothing about relationships or sex. Sure, he didn't have much (or indeed, any) experience in those areas, but that didn't mean he was clueless, and it certainly didn't mean he needed protecting. He jumped up again as there was a knock at the door.

He opened it and saw Mei standing there with her arms full. Immediately he reached out to take the burden from her. The baby turtles were sleeping soundly.

"Donatello, may I come in?" Mei asked.

Don nodded and stepped aside so she could enter. He set the basket down on one of the wide lab workbenches.

"I'm sorry about Mona," Mei said. "Please don't get the idea that we were gossiping. Mona is worried, but also narrow-minded."

Don beckoned for Mei to sit down on his desk chair. He perched on the edge of the table and folded his arms.

"I know you wouldn't gossip about me, Mei," he said. "It's okay."

Mei shook her head and placed a hand on one of Don's forearms.

"No, it is not okay," she said. "I can see it on your face. You're very hurt."

Don shrugged, but when Mei's concerned gaze bore into him, he melted. His shoulders sagged and his bowed his head.

"I guess…" he gulped. "I am hurt by what Mona said. It's really none of her business. But, what I'm also upset about is that…I think she's right?"

"What do you mean?" Mei asked. Her fingers tightened on his arm.

"I don't mean about Desdemona squashing me. I mean…" he gulped again. "God, this is hard to talk about. May I rely on your discretion?"

"Oh course," Mei said.

Don could have melted into her concerned eyes. He took a deep breath.

"Desdemona is bad, and…I like that. I like the idea that she could just take control and…that I wouldn't need to worry about it. That for once in my life I wouldn't need to be relied on for every damn thing. At the same time, the thought terrifies me."

"Why?" Mei asked.

"Well, I keep having these dreams. They start off nice, but… They always end as nightmares."

Mei nodded.

"Leonardo told me you were having trouble sleeping. He's very worried."

"The nightmares are about her. They're about…sex, and about how, well… How terrified I am. How terrified I am of her, and her experience. The dreams all end with her emasculating me – physically."

Don squeezed his eyes shut as his cheeks flamed. He was mortified, but he needed to get this out. When he opened his eyes again Mei pulled him into a tight hug. She drew back and held him at arm's length.

"I think your fear is understandable," she said. "We all fear letting people in, especially in such intimate ways. Your feelings are…complicated to say the least, and I'm assuming that you have never been with anyone in such a way?"

Don's virginity pulled down on him like a dead weight and he nodded.

"I think that you just need to talk about this to Desdemona." She held up her hand to quell Don's immediate look of horror. "I don't mean talk about everything right away, but at least broach the subject."

Don nodded and sighed.

"At the moment I can't talk to her about anything. She's been locked away for days ever since Cassio nearly spilled the beans about her baby and –" His eyes took on a new look of terror and he clamped his hand over his mouth.

"Her baby?" Mei asked, glancing over at her own brood.

"Oh, I'm dead," Don said through his fingers. "Please don't say anything to anyone. I promised Othello I wouldn't tell anyone else. But yes, she had a baby that died when she was a teenager. Cassio nearly told everyone and that's why they left so abruptly on the night the kids were born."

"How awful," Mei said. "I don't think I could cope if anything happened to my children."

Don nodded.

"I can only imagine the pain."

He slipped out of Mei's grasp and went to hover over the basket. He smiled as little Zhong grabbed onto Yoshio with his good hand.

"Sometimes I wish I were a kid again," he said. "There was a lot less for us to worry about, even being mutants in hiding."

Mei gently picked up the basket and smiled.

"Talk to her," she said.

Don nodded and held the lab door open for her as she exited.

"Thank you," he said.

Mei smiled and headed off to hers and Leo's quarters. Don closed the door and sat down on the chair Mei had just vacated. _Talk to her_. If only it was as easy as it seemed.


	9. Chapter 9

Beta pulled the cardboard sheet more tightly over her head and sniffed sharply, trying to keep her tears at bay. She should have been at home in her bed, thinking about how disobedient she had been, but ultimately being forgiven. Instead, she was cowering in a secluded doorway with only her own thoughts for company. _What have I done?_ she thought. Fresh tears mingled with the rain falling on her face. If only she hadn't been so hot-headed. If only she had thought a little more…

_The zip of the rucksack closed tightly and Beta threw the bag over her shoulder. It was musty from living underneath the bed for so many years. Inside was a small collection of the meagre possessions the young mutant had gathered over her years in the convent. A pink plastic hairbrush with a pony on the back of it; a few hair clips and bands; the stuffed white rabbit the nuns had given her when she first arrived; and the Bible and Rosary beads young Father Ruari had given her for her First Communion. At first she had cast those items aside, but relented and packed them anyway. It wasn't Father Ruari or God that she was angry at; it was the nuns._

By the time Beta had made her way home after her harrowing experience in the alleyway it had been after midnight, and Mother Mary Urban had gone ballistic. Beta had never before been on the receiving end of such a vicious punishment. She slipped her other arm through the backpack strap and shuddered.

"I cannot believe how irresponsible you have been!" Mary Urban had bellowed. "After everything that we – that I – have done for you, this is how you repay us? By staying out for hours after dark and scaring us all to death, and when out you nearly get yourself killed! Unacceptable! You will return to your cell and reflect on your actions over the next few days, and rest assured that you will not be leaving this convent again. I thought that you were responsible, Mary Gabriel, but clearly I was wrong."

_Anger surged up inside Beta again and she gritted her teeth, squeezing the backpack straps tightly in her webbed hands. It was totally unfair. She had made a mistake, one mistake, and okay so she could have been hurt, but she hadn't been! If only she could have concealed everything from them. It was impossible for her to lie to the nuns' faces, especially Mother Mary Urban, so the whole truth had come spilling out. Except the part about being saved by the giant turtles; they would have thought she was making that up._

It had been amazing to see those two wonderful creatures in action. They had been so brave and so skilful in taking down her attacker, and then they had been so wonderful and had even helped the poor man who was stabbed. She wished that she hadn't have run away. If there were other mutant things living in New York other than herself, then maybe, just maybe, they might know about her sister. How wonderful would it be to see Alpha again after so many years! With the nuns being so unreasonable and wanting to lock her up again, Beta had decided to simply run away. She would look for the other mutants no matter how long it took her to find them, and she would ask them about Alpha. And if they didn't know anything, she would keep looking.

Beta threw her cloak on over her rucksack and pulled the hood down snugly. She would have to live rough, and try and find food and water and stay invisible, but that wouldn't be too difficult in such a huge city. It was better than being a prisoner here for the rest of her life. She carefully opened the door to her cell, making sure it didn't creak, and then gently closed it behind her. She slunk along the dark corridors of the huge building and went to the kitchen. She took the large ring of keys from their usual hook and quietly unlocked the back door. She put them back and then stealthily exited and breathed the night air in deeply, taking a huge lungful and savouring it before exhaling again. Without looking back, Beta slipped out of the convent grounds and disappeared into the New York night.

***

Mona stormed off through the lair and headed to the garage. _Stupid Mei and stupid Donatello!,_ she thought. _I'm only looking out for him. Why can't they see that?_ She placed one hand on her rotund stomach and gritted her teeth. _Making me out to be a bad guy!_ She hurried down the grille steps and slammed the release for the garage door. As it slid open, Raphael turned around. His grease-streaked face fell.

"What's wrong, babe?" he asked.

"AUGH!"

Mona sat down heavily on a box full of assorted car parts and folded her arms.

"I'm only looking out for him, and they're treating me like a criminal?"

"Who are you looking out for? Who's treating you like a criminal?"

Raph wiped off his hands and slung the rag over his shoulder. Mona sniffed and blinked back sudden tears.

"I was talking to Mei about Donatello and how worried I am about him getting involved with that Desdemona. She's bad news like you said, and when I told Mei I thought so she nearly took my head off!"

Raph drew his brows together and shook his head.

"That don't sound like Mei," he said.

Immediately he realised his mistake.

"Oh, so you're going to side with her now instead of the mother of your child, huh?" Mona said, standing up and balling her hands into fists.

"No, babe! That's not what I meant!" It was Raph's turn to grit his teeth. "I'm just sayin' she's not normally like that."

"All I was doing was saying that I'm worried about Don getting hurt by that weirdo. Then Don overheard and told me to keep my worry to myself!"

"Donnie heard?" Raph said. He closed his eyes briefly and took Mona's hands. "Look, babe, Don's a big boy. He needs ta be able to make his own mistakes. God knows I don't want him gettin' involved with someone who's funnelled more hogs than a pen at a county fair, but it's his choice."

Mona pulled her hands away and jumped up. She wanted to come back at him with some stinging, witty retort, but all that came out was:

"ARRRRRGH!"

Without looking back she tore out of the garage, Raphael's cries of "come back you crazy woman!" echoing behind her.

Mona sprinted through the empty living area and disappeared out into the sewer tunnels. She ran without looking back, tears streaming down her face and her hands supporting her baby bump. Eventually she reached the ladders to a surface-level manhole and she leapt up them, escaping out into the shadows of a Midtown alleyway.

She breathed in deeply and tried to calm her thundering heartbeat. She leaned against the rough surface of a brick wall and hung her head. Her short hair fell over her face. Tears tracked down her cheeks. She knew that she was at least in part being unreasonable. She shouldn't have lost her temper with Raphael; or Mei for that matter. It really wasn't her business what Donatello did, but he was so sweet and kind; if that Desdemona hurt him, Mona would kill her. Mona curled her long tail up underneath her and sank to the ground, hugging her legs and bump.

She couldn't wait to get this baby out of her. She felt huge, awkward, and greasy; never before had she been so irritable in her life. She was normally happy-go-lucky and exuberant, but as the pregnancy marched on it was taking more of a toll on her. She bowed her head and felt huge tears well up in the corner of her eyes. All the stress wasn't doing the child inside her any good, but she couldn't help it. She wiped away the tears and stretched her legs out in front of her. She certainly shouldn't have run off. No doubt when she returned Raphael would be furious.

Mona's head snapped around as she heard a soda can being kicked and she saw a robed figure stumbling into the alley. Mona jumped to her feet and hurried silently to take cover behind a dumpster. The figure was panting heavily and leaning on the wall. From the look of the garb, it was a nun. She stumbled a little deeper into the alleyway and spied the dumpster. She headed for it; clearly she needed to hide too.

_Shit_, Mona thought. _What am I going to do?_

***

Beta's feet pounded the pavement as she fled. She dove in and out of the crowds of people with a look of abject terror hidden under her hood. She had been roaming the streets free of the nuns for only three days and already she was in big trouble.

She had known his face as soon as she had seen it. It had been years, but she would never forget that face. It was him, the Colonel; and without doubt he had seen her too. Their eyes had met so briefly. Beta's hood had blown down in a sudden gust of wind, just at the time the Colonel was stepping out of his shining black car. Immediately he had set one of his lackeys on her.

The young mutant sped around a corner, holding her hood down tightly. She didn't want anyone else seeing her face and trying to chase her. The men were quickly gaining ground on her and her lungs felt as though they were filled with razor blades. She had the cover of darkness on her side, but that would only work if she could lose them for even a few seconds.

Seizing an opportunity Beta dove into an alleyway and sent a soda can flying. It bounced off the rough ground as she fell against the wall, struggling to get a breath into her body. She tried to gain her composure and glanced around for anywhere to hide. There was a large dumpster that she could hide behind… Though even better, she could hide in! Beta drew in a deep breath and hefted its lid, and covering her nose with her sleeve, she jumped inside.

***

_Oh, thank God_, Mona thought as the robed figure jumped inside the dumpster. That in itself was disturbing; it wasn't every day you saw a nun throw herself in the trash. There was no time to ponder upon it however. Clearly there was trouble headed this way. Mona stood and peered around the dumpster. The coast was clear. She slunk out to open the manhole cover again so she could slip away, but the lip was caught on something. She grunted as she struggled to shift it, but went very still as a shadow appeared on her periphery.

"Now I see why you were wearing that robe," a voice said.

Mona stood up and held out her hands in defence, but she knew she was in big trouble. A man strode towards her and in a flash had grabbed her arm, looking down at her pregnant stomach.

"Colonel Cooper is going to be very happy when he sees this."

"What? Let me go you creep! I swear I'll –"

Mona's words were cut off as the man grabbed her by the back of the neck and suddenly slammed her head into the brick wall. Her head fell and she was immediately sent into oblivion.

***

There were voices in the alley, and Beta gulped. They had found her. She shut her eyes tightly and burrowed down a little more into the garbage. Maybe they wouldn't look in the trash… There was a smash and a soft 'oh', and Beta drew her brows together. She gathered her wits and opened the lid of the dumpster so that she could see through a tiny gap. The man who had been chasing her was there, but he wasn't looking for her any more. Clearly he had found something better.

Beta's heart leapt into her mouth. He was hefting a small green figure onto his shoulder; a very pregnant figure, and a very familiar figure.

"Alpha!" Beta breathed.

The man turned around and Beta let the lid drop. Her mind and heart were racing as she waited to see if the dumpster would be flung open, but there was a moment of silence before the footsteps began to move away. When Beta opened the lid again, the alley was empty. Beta hopped out of it and blessed herself.

"Dear God," she said, "please let my sister be okay. Let me find her and save her!"

She couldn't believe it. Her knees went weak underneath her and her legs buckled. She fell to the ground and shook her head. _What am I going to do?_


	10. Chapter 10

Consciousness swirled back slowly. Mona felt as if she were desperately trying to swim to the surface of a viscous pool. There was a tiny pinprick of light that grew larger and larger until eventually she broke the surface, and gasped as reality hit with full force.

Mona looked around, her eyes blinking as she adjusted to the brightness. She glanced down and saw that she was shackled to some kind of gurney. She struggled against the old leather straps that were tight around her wrists and ankles. She grunted and fell back against the hard metal. Her head suddenly exploded in pain as she remembered that her skull had connected with a brick wall. _Where the hell am I?_ she thought.

There room was white and sterile, and the trays of instruments laid out neatly on tables told her that whatever was going to happen was not going to be good. The brightness was coming from an array of angle poise lamps shining down on her. They shone down on her very pregnant stomach. Her protruding belly button cast a sharp shadow across it. Mona lifted her head again, and the pain stepped up a notch. She strained her neck to try and see further around the room. For the moment, she appeared to be alone.

"Why did I have to be so stupid?" she said, laying her head back down gently. "I run off and now this happens! Typical!"

The rage abated as quickly as it had come on and tears began to pool in her eyes, spilling over the sides of her face and into her hair. She tried to stifle her sobs. Raphael would be furious, and even more so worried. He was probably tearing the place apart. Then Leonardo would try to calm him, and it would rile him up even more. She closed her eyes as blood rushed through her head and pumped along with the pain.

"Oh, Raphie," Mona whispered.

As the words whispered from between her lips there was a harsh clank and a swish. She looked up to see three men entering the room. One man was tall and statuesque, and definitely in charge. The second was shorter, and kept a step behind the first man. The smallest one was almost cowering behind the other two, clutching a clipboard.

"Ah, you're awake," the tallest man said. His voice was smooth, but cold. "It's been a long time, my dear."

Mona lifted her head again and winced. She glared at the small group.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked.

The man chuckled and approached the bed. He laid a hand on her swollen stomach; Mona tried to scrabble away, but the bindings were too tight. His touch was clammy; it made her skin crawl.

"Of course you don't remember me," he said, and then chuckled. "I suppose, however, you could call me…your father."

Mona paused for a moment as her mind processed the information. Suddenly she tried to leap up. The leather straps cut into her and she gritted her teeth, snarling through curled lips.

"What are you talking about? I don't know you; I don't know any of you!"

The man reached up to pet her cheek. Mona tried to bite his long fingers, and he pulled his hand away abruptly.

"You always were feisty, Alpha. You were almost perfect. If only you had been a boy. You had the exact temperament we wanted."

"What do you mean? What why did you call me that?" Mona shrieked. "Let me out of here! I need to go home!"

"Please, don't strain yourself," the second man said, stepping towards the gurney. "You could harm the baby."

Mona spat at him, though it fell short of target, and she snarled again.

"What the hell do you care about my baby?" she asked.

"Oh, my dear, we care very much about this baby," the first man said. "In fact, we care so much that we're going to take it off your hands."

"WHAT?"

"Perhaps we should explain," the second man said.

The first man thought for a moment, before he folded his arms and nodded.

"Yes, perhaps we should. You may do the honours, Lieutenant."

The second man's face visibly brightened as if he was a child who had been given a new toy. The third man was still cowering in the background, as if he didn't want to get too close.

"Well," the 'lieutenant' said. "My name is Stephen Parker, and I was part of the team who created you. Colonel Cooper here," he said, gesturing to the tall man, "hired myself and a team of scientists for a special military experiment. It was called Project Super Soldier. We wanted to create new, better, faster, stronger soldiers for the front lines."

"Cannon fodder, you might say," Colonel Cooper said with a cold smile.

Mona growled at him. Parker stayed silent until Cooper gestured for him to continue.

"We came up with a hybrid human-reptile, upright and intelligent like a human but with the superior speed and reflexes of some species of lizards."

"Not to mention a natural and dangerous weapon," Cooper said as he pinched the end of Mona's restrained tail. "It was all going very well, and we were starting to get results. We weren't quite there, and there were a lot of strange morphs that came out dead."

Mona closed her eyes and winced.

"Stop it!" she said. "I don't believe any of this!"

Cooper was now in his stride. Parker stepped back.

"And then you came along," the colonel said. "You were perfect when you came out of the incubator: fully formed, perfectly plump and with a wail that could be used as a foghorn. You were perfect, except for one thing: you were a girl."

Mona's face crumpled with confusion and she shook her head, though the pain that shot through it immediately made her regret it.

"What?" she asked.

"Oh yes," Cooper said. "We couldn't have gone to the military with female cannon fodder. No, the super soldiers needed to be male. So we kept you to study you, and tried again. We named you Alpha; the next was Beta. But," Cooper said, suddenly snarling and banging his fist on the gurney beside Mona's head, "Beta was female as well!"

Mona turned her head away, her mind reeling from the influx of information. It couldn't be true… Could it? That meant that in a way, she had a sister. She turned back to face Cooper.

"What happened?" she asked. "How did I get away from you? And what about Beta? What happened to her?"

Cooper grabbed her chin squeezed tightly.

"One day, you ran away," he said. "God only knows how you got out. Though considering the incompetents I've been saddled with," he said, casting a sidelong glance at Parker, "I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised. You disappeared, without a trace. Perhaps you could tell me where you've been, and how this happened," he said, gesturing to her pregnant stomach.

"I won't tell you anything!" Mona said.

Cooper slapped a hand on her stomach and grabbed. Mona squirmed and winced.

"What you say isn't my primary concern anyway," he said. "What you're carrying is what I want. I didn't succeed with you, but perhaps you've brought some good fortune my way. If that baby of yours if a boy, it'll be mine."

"No, you – you can't!" Mona said, words failing her.

"Oh yes I can," Cooper said. "Parker here will have that thing out of you one way or another. Project Super Solider may not be dead quite yet."

Mona felt as if she was going to explode with rage. The gurney shuddered as she wrenched against the straps.

"You monster! You – you animal!"

"I'm not the monster, my dear," Cooper said. "I think you'll find that's _you_."

The room shuddered with Mona's fury.

***

"Where the hell is she?"

Raphael's bellows echoed around the lair. It wasn't long before everyone had gathered in the living area to see what was wrong.

"We'll find her, Raph," Leo said.

He laid a hand on his brother's shoulder, but Raph shrugged it off.

"Don't touch me," he snarled. "God only knows how long she's been gone for. I thought that she just stormed off to our room, but no, she had to disappear completely! Without taking her turtle comm!"

"We'll find her," Leo said again, more firmly this time. "There are enough of us. We'll split up and search."

In no mood for placations, Raphael stomped a little distance off and folded his arms tightly. Leo addressed the group.

"Okay, we'll go out in pairs and search. If you see anything, let the others know. Sensei and Mei will stay here and look after the babies."

Mei was cuddling a sleeping Yoshio. Splinter had Xiu-Mei and Zhong in his lap. The two nodded, though Leo knew from Mei's stiff demeanour that she wanted to be out looking for her friend.

"Don, can you ask Casey and Apr—"

"I'm on it, Leo," Don said, his turtle comm already out.

"Good. Mike, go and get Desdemona, Othello and Cassio and ask them for help. I think we need all hands available."

"Sure, Leo," Mike said.

His usual humour was lost to the seriousness of the situation, and he leapt off to get the Sewer Slider.

"Raph and I will team up," Leo said.

Raph glared at him over his shoulder, but Leo didn't flinch. Don had walked a little further away, but clicked off his communicator and came over to stand by Leo's side.

"April and Casey will be on the streets in five," he said.

"Good," Leo said. "Mike's gone to get Des and crew. If you're quick you can catch up to him."

Don nodded and sprinted off in the same direction as Mike.

"Okay," Leo said, "let's go."

***

The entire day's plan changed with that one glance. Cooper had just planted his feet on the pavement when a blessed gust of wind had blown his whole life wide open. There is was, alive and well after all these years, right in the city under his nose. He wasn't even sure what he had bellowed, but within a second of seeing it Parker was bolting down the avenue in hot pursuit. Instead of going to a meeting with the heads of research on the luck virus project, he had speeding through the city back to his warehouse. Parker had captured the thing, and now it was in his grasp.

Granted, it had looked different when the wind had blown the hood down. The old colonel could have sworn there was a dark green stripe running down its face, but no matter. Beta had been the one with the green stripe. Alpha's face was a plain green. Either way, one of his old progeny was back in his grasp, and even better, it was pregnant. Cooper's mind worked overtime at the thought of selling off Project Super Soldier to another country. If the US Army didn't want it, someone else could benefit, and Cooper would make a fat profit from it. _Oh yes, that baby will be the vindication I deserve_, Cooper thought, _and I will have it, whether the mother lives or dies._


	11. Chapter 11

Night closed in around New York like a blanket. From their perch on the top of a brownstone, Donatello and Desdemona kept a look out for any sign of their lost companion. The Hamatos and the Keikos had been on the streets for close to two hours now in search of Mona, but as yet, no one had seen so much as the tip of her long green tail. Each pair had taken a different district, and Des and Don had taken Midtown to start with. Desdemona and her brothers had agreed to help without a moment's hesitation; it was the first time Des had left their home in days. Few words passed between the two turtles as they ventured up to the surface and onto the rooftops, not for want of trying on Don's part. Desdemona was closed off. It was just like when they had met in MuTo; though granted this time she wasn't trying to strangle him.

Don felt a little like strangling her. They had made so much progress in the past few months, getting to know one another and finding more reasons to want to become closer. It had been a long time since Don had found himself being looked at by a set of blank yellow eyes. He was thawing her out, and the more she mellowed, the more he wanted her. Since he had talked to Mei about his fears surrounding sex, the nightmares had abated somewhat. As yet, he still hadn't broached the subject with Des. They weren't there yet; not to mention that they hadn't seen each other in days. Don turned to watch her as she stood at the edge of the roof with one high-heeled boot set on the raised edge. The wind blew the long section of Des's wig across her face, and as the moon peaked out from behind a wispy cloud it edged her in white. Don sighed. Searching for Mona was important, but this was his chance to try and get back on speaking terms with Desdemona. He approached her and placed a hand on the lip of her shell.

The touch brought her attention to him, and she turned to face him. She stared hard at him, her eyes a pale amber in the city light. Don swallowed and lifted a hand to cup her face. They stood in silence, watching each other as the sounds of the city floated up from the streets and faded away into the clouds.

Eventually Des reached up and laid a hand over Don's. She threaded her fingers between his.

"There's something special about you, Donatello," she said. "I don't know what it is."

"My winning smile?" Don asked. "My sparkling personality?"

Don cocked his head to the side and grinned. Des shook her head, the humour lost to her.

"I don't know what it is," she said again.

Don leant forward and planted a soft kiss on her beak, and pulled her in for a hug.

"I'm going to say something," Don said, taking a deep breath, "and I want you just to listen to me before saying anything, okay?"

"Okay," Des said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

Don kissed the soft fibres of her wig and then held her at arm's length.

"I know about the baby that died," Don said.

Before Des could say anything Don held a finger up to her lips.

"Listen to me," he said. "I know, and I'm sorry for it. It must have been terrible, for all of you."

Des let her gaze fall to the ground.

"I can't believe Othello told you about our baby," she said.

Don's face crumpled and he shook his head. His mind went over the sentence again and again. Eventually, the pieces clicked painfully into place and he gulped.

"Our baby? You mean… Yours and…Othello's?"

Des looked back up. Her face was suddenly painfully blank again. She nodded.

"Oh…" Don said. "He didn't mention that it was…that he was the…" Don gulped. "Oh, God."

"I'm not surprised he didn't tell you that part. But if you're going to know, you might as well know the whole story," she said, her voice back to a robotic monotony. She pulled away from him and stepped back to the edge of the building. Cars flew along below without a care. "We told you why Othello was created. When we both hit what I suppose you could call puberty for want of a better word, he… He began emitting a scent that was just… I can't explain it. I _had_ to have him. I had to have his baby. That was what Michio wanted. She was a clever, clever bitch. Once we… Once we had done what she wanted, and I was…inseminated, the scent stopped. It's never come back. We only did it once; that was enough."

Donatello rubbed the top of his head and blinked several times. That was… That was very, very weird.

"This is why I've never allowed anyone to get close to me before," Des said. "I know it wasn't my fault, or Othello's fault, but it's just _wrong_ to mate with your clone. And that deformed little baby was proof of it. She was so small, and weak, and… She didn't stand a chance." Des turned to him and gestured to herself, a look of disgust on her face. "I'm an incestuous prostitute. That's not an insult, it's a fact. And you shouldn't come anywhere near me."

Des stepped up onto the ledge and for one fleeting moment Don thought she was going to jump, but she simply crossed her arms and looked up at the rounded fullness of the moon. Don placed his hands on his hips and let his chin drop to his chest briefly, before looking back up at her.

"Well, if we're going to take a negative spin on everything, I'm a murderer."

Desdemona turned her head to the side and stared at him over her shoulder.

"I am," Don said. "I've killed several times."

"But never in anger," Des said. "I know you would never kill in cold blood."

"And I know you wouldn't have sex with your clone, or twin, or whatever you want to call him, for kicks." Don approached her and held out a hand to beckon her down. "None of us are perfect," he said. "We've all done things because the choice of whether to do them or to not do them was out of our hands. I'll admit, I am a little…disturbed about what you've told me, but that doesn't make me think any less of you."

Des stared at the offered hand and eventually took it. She hopped down from the ledge and the two stood close enough for their beaks to touch.

"You are very unique, Donatello," she said. "I think that's what it is. You're completely different from anyone I've ever met before." She pressed her free hand onto the cool scute above his heart. "You're everything I wish I was. You have a heart."

Don shook his head and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"You have a heart too," Don said. "You just don't show it. Othello and I have talked a lot. I know about how you gave free rooms in your apartment building to mutants without anywhere else to go. I know how you gave people money and paid off mutant bounty hunters. I know about how you refused to let Cassio get into prostitution because you care too much about him to let him do that."

"Othello has a big mouth," Des said.

Don chuckled and gave her a wide smile.

"So are you speaking to me again?"

"I suppose I am," Des said. "I'd like to do more than just speak to you, though."

Don felt his cheeks flame and he gulped again.

"I'd like that too, but maybe not now. We should really get back to looking for Mona."

Des nodded.

"Agreed," she said.

They broke off their embrace, but just as Desdemona went to turn away she turned back around abruptly and pushed Don back towards the metal struts of the rooftop water tower. She pinned his wrists and pressed her body along the length of his. He could easily have overpowered her; wielding the bo staff had long since given him strong biceps. He could have, but simply didn't want to. Within him, the embers which had been smouldering suddenly burst into full flame.

"I will have you soon," Des said, "and you will enjoy it. I know that's what you want."

Don's tail twitched and he could feel his arousal building. And just as abruptly as she had turned before, she let go of his wrists and backed off. Don felt his breath come back to him and he couldn't help but smile.

"You are…" he said.

"Bad," Des said. "It's my speciality. Now let's try and look for your friend again. It was naughty of us to stop."

The way she said 'naughty' sent a shiver through Don's core and he shook himself to try and gain some control again.

"It was," Don said. "Let's only hope that some of the others have had better luck than we have."

However, as far as Don was concerned at this moment he was most certainly the luckiest turtle on Earth.

***

"Oww! It's too tight!" Cassio cried.

"Stop being a baby and just take it!" Mike said.

The mutants were sheltering in a secluded alleyway. Cassio was leaning against a wall, hidden in deep shadow, whimpering as Mike wound the makeshift bandage a little tighter. Cassio had managed to trip on a piece of discarded plywood and had taken a bad fall. Mike had undone one of his arm wraps and was diligently bandaging Cassio's ankle. _Thank God I listened to Don that time he showed me this,_ Mike thought. _Good ol' Brainiac,_.

"It huuuurts," Cassio said.

"Should'a watched where you were going then," Mike said.

He grinned as Cassio pouted and folded his arms.

"It isn't my fault people leave so much garbage around this city," he said. "I mean, look at this alley! There's a huge pile of _rubbish_ underneath that tarp over there."

Mike glanced over at the pile Cassio was looking at. He looked away, but his head snapped back so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Poking out from between two garbage bags and underneath the tarpaulin was the unmistakable sight of a green, web-toed foot.

"Oh my God, Mona!" he said.

He leapt up and wrenched the tarp away, but his face twisted with confusion and his heart stopped. It wasn't Mona. Within a split second, however, his heart began racing again. It was the other mutant, the one he and Donatello had saved in the alleyway.

"Is it her?" Cassio asked, limping a little closer.

"No," Mike said. "But it's definitely a mutant."

"Another mutant? I thought you were the only mutants here," Cassio said.

"So did I," Mike said. He reached out and pushed some of the mutant's filthy red hair from her face. She was out cold. "I'm going to take her back with me," Mike said. "I'd ask you to help, but…"

Cassio hopped a little closer again and peered down at the mutant.

"She looks like Mona," he said.

"I know," Mike said. He bent down and lifted her onto his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "And that's why I need to take her back. It's too much of a coincidence."

The girl was totally limp and didn't stir as she was lifted. Mike headed for the manhole that was in the alleyway and opened it deftly with his foot. He went to begin climbing down when Cassio cried for his attention.

"Hey, how am I going to get back?" he asked.

Mike grinned and secured one hand on the girl's waist.

"Get creative," he said.

He was about to add that he would carry the girl down and come back for Cassio, but Cassio suddenly flipped himself up and began walking on his hands. The air was filled with the gentle tinkle of the little bells on his wrists and ankles.

"Creative indeed," he said with a little huff of breath.

Mike opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again and instead began climbing back down into the sewer system, his new charge a dead weight on his shoulder.


	12. Chapter 12

Beta pressed her webbed fingers into the soft, leathery surface of the bed and moaned. Then reality smashed into her like an eighteen wheeler and she wrenched herself upright, frantically blinking the haze of sleep from her eyes. Her bed at the convent wasn't leathery, and in any case, she hadn't fallen asleep there. She had crawled under a pile of garbage and a discarded tarpaulin to get some rest after a disastrous night searching for her sister.

Alpha. She had seen Alpha, for the first time in nearly twenty years. Then, in the cruellest twist of fate, the men pursuing her had snatched her poor sister away. Beta rubbed furiously at her eyes as the crushing weight of blame fell upon her. Alpha had been captured by the Colonel and his men, but they had been chasing _her_.

Beta shook her head in one final effort to clear the fuzz from her brain. Her eyes now clear, she was finally able to get a good look at her surroundings. She was in a large, high-ceilinged room that appeared to be part-lounge, part-warehouse. Staring at her was not just one or two, but _nine_ mutants – including a giant rat.

"God preserve me!" Beta squeaked as she hurriedly blessed herself with shaking hands.

She looked from one green face to another, and her gaze stopped at the one wearing orange. He had been one of her saviours in the alleyway, what seemed like years before.

The rat, who was definitely the odd-one-out in the group of reptilian mutants, gave Beta a gentle smile and rested his gnarled pink fingers on a short walking stick.

"Please, remain calm," he said, for his voice was definitely male. It also had an accent that Beta could not place. "You are safe here."

Beta gulped and looked around the room again.

"Where am I?" she asked. "Why am I here?"

"You are in our home, in the sewers under Manhattan," the rat said. "My name is Splinter, and this is my family." He gestured at the group of reptiles. Beta could not stop one eye ridge from shooting upwards in disbelief. The rat, Splinter, gave her a wan smile and shook his furred head. "It will take too long to explain. You were brought here by my son, Michelangelo. He found you unconscious in an alley."

"Hey," the orange turtle said, waving at her. "We met before, remember? When me and my bro here," he said, jerking a finger towards the turtle in purple, "stopped some punks from turning you into mutant mush."

Beta nodded.

"I remember," she said. "But I need to go, right now." She jumped to her feet and began looking for the closest exit. "I need to find my sister, she's in danger and it's all my fault!"

Tears welled up in her eyes and Beta gave a feeble attempt at suppressing a sob. Splinter looked at her with his dark, intense eyes, and she tried to step backwards, but her heels were already against the couch.

"One of our own is also in danger," Splinter said, "and I believe that we may all be looking for the same person."

Beta shook her head and glanced around the mutants again. They were all looking at her, as if she was someone vaguely familiar, a name or face on the tip of their tongues.

"The resemblance is uncanny," the turtle with the purple bandana said.

The shorter mutant wearing red snorted and muscled his way to the front of the group. He marched up to Beta and grabbed her shoulder. His grip was fierce, unyielding, and his stare was furious. He looked into her eyes, and after a moment his stare softened to reveal a painful vulnerability. Beta wanted to reach up to touch his face, but he let go of her and walked a little way off. When he looked back, his eyes were hard again.

"She's definitely related to Mona," he said.

"Mona?" Beta asked. "My sister is called Alpha. I am Beta, or Mary Gabriel to the nuns. I don't know –"

"Where is she?" bellowed the turtle wearing red.

Beta fell back down onto the couch and dug her fingers into the worn leather.

"I don't know!" she said. "I saw her in an alley, I was being chased! But then the men too _her_, I think they thought she was me!"

"_Who?_"

The turtle in red began to stalk back towards her, but the one wearing blue who had yet to speak barred his way and grabbed his biceps.

"Raph, calm down," he said. "Frightening her won't get us anywhere."

"Get off me, Leo," 'Raph' said.

He glared at Beta, but walked a little way off instead of coming back towards her. The one he had called 'Leo' stood by Splinter's side and regarded Beta with a cool, calm stare.

"Please," he said, "who was chasing you? The more you can tell us, the closer we'll be to finding you sister – our Mona – and bringing her home."

Splinter nodded, and Beta found huge tears welling in her eyes again. They bore hot tracks down her cheeks as she told them everything she knew.

Cooper pulled another pre-cut cigar from his crocodile skin holder. He slipped his heavy silver lighter from his pocket, and savoured the sensation of lighting up another step towards victory. Through the one-way glass, he watched as the wayward subject from Project Super Soldier struggled against her bindings. Cooper exhaled and rested his gaze on her swollen stomach. The ultrasound had been unable to confirm whether the child lazing inside her was male or female, but they would not have to wait for much longer to find out. After a few more pointless tests to keep Parker satisfied, Cooper intended to take the next step using a surgeon he had a lot of dirt on.

As Alpha strained against the straps holding her to the gurney, letting out a scream that was silenced by the soundproofed room, Cooper inhaled again. As he exhaled, Le Clercq shambled into the room under a pile of paperwork. He coughed and his eyes moved from the lit cigar in Cooper's hand to the large 'No Smoking' sign above his head. However, he said nothing and placed the pile of documents down on the table in front of the glass.

"Sir," he said, his voice straining as he tried not to breathe in, "there are a few documents that need your approval before we can move onto the final stage of testing for the luck virus."

Cooper stared at the pile of paperwork and cocked an eyebrow.

"A few?" he asked.

Le Clercq made a brave effort not to squeak and nodded.

"Yes, sir," he said.

"No, no," Cooper said, idly flicking through the documents. "I don't want to sign anything, I don't want to look at anything. I know that the luck virus works, and I am sick of testing. We do not need more testing. We need to start manufacturing it."

"But sir," Le Clercq said, "the scientific committee have requested that more tests are carried out to ensure –"

"I do not care what the 'scientific committee' have requested!" Cooper said. In one fluid flick of his wrist, he knocked the entire stack of papers onto the floor. Le Clercq's face became a picture of dread and his hands began to shake. Cooper snarled. "I am in charge of this project," he said, "and I have final say on how we proceed. If I say begin manufacturing this virus, then that is what we will do!"

"Y-yes sir," Le Clercq said, getting onto his knees to begin gathering up the scattered papers.

"Give them my orders," Cooper said, flicking ash onto his aide's head, "and send for Parker. I need to speak to him regarding my other project."

He turned his attention back to the struggling, pregnant figure through the glass, and paid no heed to Le Clercq's rapid retreat or his glare of burning hatred. He did not turn back around until the metallic swish of the door opening heralded Parker's arrival. Cooper stubbed out his cigar under his boot and folded his arms.

"Yes, sir?" Parker asked.

Cooper beckoned him forward and pointed at Alpha's thrashing form.

"She has not stopped fighting since she awoke," Cooper said. "That is the strength I sought from Project Super Soldier. Hopefully, that strength will have been passed on to her child."

Parker nodded.

"I hope so, sir. According to our studies, it won't be long before she gives birth. It will most likely be within the next week, two at the most."

"We won't have to wait that long," Cooper said. Parker looked at him, his eyes slightly narrowed. Cooper grinned. "I'm not a patient man, Parker. I don't intend to wait one or two weeks. We'll know by the end of the day."

"How, sir? Surely you don't…?"

"Yes, Parker. I'm calling in a favour. As soon as he arrives in from Atlanta, an old associate of mine – a surgeon – will cut that baby out of our friend Alpha here."

"But sir –"

"No!" Cooper said, holding up a hand for silence. "I am not waiting. You said that the baby seemed healthy, and would likely be viable from now onwards. Unless you're going to tell me that you lied to me when you said that, there will be no more discussion about it."

Parker gulped, and Cooper grinned. There was no way the other man could win.

"Now," Cooper said, in a tone that declared that the previous conversation was definitely over, "go and find Le Clercq and check if he has managed to disseminate my orders on the _other_ project correctly."

Parker nodded curtly, and Cooper simply laughed at the hint of defiance in his subordinate's eyes. What did Parker know? What did any of them know? Nothing. If the mutinous behaviour continued, the only thing that they would ever know again would be Cooper's wrath. Cooper grinned widely as the door slid shut behind a retreating Parker, and he turned his full attention again to the writhing figure on the gurney.

"Soon," he said, "I will have that child, and perhaps, I will also have my credibility again. I won't be outcast any longer. My soldiers will be the greatest triumph the US Army have ever seen!"

Cooper laughed, long and loudly, while watching his captive strain and struggle against her bonds.

"Well, that certainly explains a few things," Donatello said.

He was perched on the arm of one of the couches, his arms crossed over his plastron. The entire extended family had been gathered around the small robed figure named Beta, listening as she spilled her life's story to them. If what she said was true, it filled in a few gaping holes regarding Mona Lisa's origins, and how she came to meet the turtles so many years ago.

"Indeed," Splinter said. He had taken a seat beside Beta, and nodded as she sniffled into a handkerchief he had given her. "I believe that our young friend here is telling us the truth." Beta looked up at him at those words and managed a small smile. "We will have time to discuss everything in more detail at a later stage, but right now our attention needs to be focused on Mona Lisa, and how we can help her."

"If this Colonel guy has done everything she says he's done," Raph said, jerking a thumb at Beta, "then we need ta do somethin', and _now_."

"I know that, Raphael," Splinter said. "The next step will be to try and find this warehouse that he is operating from." He looked at Beta. "Can you remember where it was?"

"I… I think so," she said. "If you take me back to where you found me, I think I could find my way. I did not get to run far."

"You think? Or you can?" Raph snarled. "I don't wanna be goin' on some pointless trek when Mona is in danger."

"I can," Beta said firmly. "I've been exploring the city for some time now. I know my way."

"Well then let's get going," Raph said.

"Agreed," said Splinter. "Raphael, you will go with your brothers and our young friend here. The rest will stay here."

Donatello got to his feet, and after giving Desdemona's shoulder a brief squeeze, he took Beta by the elbow.

"Let's go," he said softly.

The young mutant looked up at him with round eyes, startlingly similar to Mona's, and he ushered her along after his brothers. _Hang in there Mona – and baby_, he thought. _We're coming_.


End file.
